Forsaken
by thejamster
Summary: Bella Swan is an FBI agent whose past haunts her. Edward Cullen is the powerful CEO of a defense contracting firm. When his life is threatened Bella is assigned to his case. Can she track down his would-be killers before her own heart is forsaken?
1. Introductions

_Bella_

"Hey, Bella, the briefing starts in 10 minutes." I glanced up from the stack of papers piled high on my desk. Mike Newton was leaning into the doorframe, eager to escort me to the case briefing. "Coming?" He smiled his familiar boy-next-door grin, gesturing toward the hallway.

Ever since high school Mike seemed to be a nearly-permanent fixture in my life. I'd managed to get away during college but we had re-connected at work, thousands of miles from Forks. I still remembered the day I was sitting in my office, going over a file, when his mother called me. I had only been an agent for two years at the time. She was concerned at his lack of direction and wanted to know what her son could do to get into the FBI. Little did I know at the time that by giving him a recommendation he'd end up here, not Seattle.

To make matters worse, Mike had somehow wound up in my department after moving to DC two years ago. I suspected he'd had a hand in the matter. My glowing recommendation probably hadn't helped. Why wouldn't I want to work with someone I'd so heartily endorsed?

"Yeah, in sec. I've got to finish reading this report." The last thing I needed was another "friendly" conversation with Mike. Clearly he hadn't gotten over our two-week fling in eleventh grade. I preferred to walk the 30 feet to the conference room alone.

"Okay, see you in there." Mike's friendliness was obnoxious only because he never took a hint. Maybe that was part of what made him a great analyst: persistence. The boy was nothing if not tenacious. When he picked up a lead he followed it further than most, never giving up. Still, in personal matters, I found his constant attention suffocating.

I quickly wrapped up, filling out a forest's worth of paperwork, and went to the conference room. It was more packed than usual. The new case must be important.

"Good afternoon everyone. This morning, around 8:05, an attempt was made on the life of Edward Cullen. Some of you may be aware that he is the CEO of Cullen Corporation, one of the largest defense contractors in the world." Mitchell Scott, the deputy director of our branch, was in his element. He continued, describing the incident and possible suspects. Nothing was conclusive at this point.

"Special Agent Swan, you'll be running point on this one. I want you to assemble your team and get to work immediately. Mr. Cullen is expecting a contingent from this office sometime before the end of the day."

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. _I'm running point?_ What was he thinking? I'd never been in charge of my own case before. And this was no time for me to sink or swim, not when the life of a major figure hung in the balance.

I waited until the end of the briefing, after everyone else had filed out, before I approached him. "Um, Mitch, are you sure that I'm ready for this?" I asked, hesitantly. "I mean, I've never done this before and I don't want—"

"Bella," he interrupted, "you're more than ready to take the lead on this one. Besides, we have reason to suspect that there might have been some Italian involvement in this job. I didn't say anything in the briefing because we've got no hard evidence. But it's a pretty big coincidence that an attempt was made on Mr. Cullen's life the day after his company beat out the Volturi Corporation for the single largest government contract in the past 10 years."

I was still wary, but his reasoning made sense. "You'd better go over the case file—you're scheduled to be at Mr. Cullen's office by 2 pm." I glanced at my watch. It was almost 12:30. _Crap! _I'd have to hustle if I was going to review the file in time. So much for lunch.

I spent the next hour poring over his file. Edward Cullen was 33, unmarried, with no children. He held a degree in Biology from Georgetown and an MBA from Harvard. When he was only 25 he had launched Cullen Corp., quickly growing it from a meager start-up to one of the major world-players in defense.

I also examined the report from today's attempt on his life. It was pretty sparse. There had been no witnesses aside from Mr. Cullen. No physical evidence had been found at the scene so far. I had very little to work with at this point.

Finishing up at about 1:30, I slogged through DC's tangle of mid-afternoon traffic on my way to the Cullen Corporation's main office. I didn't particularly enjoy driving around town, especially in the huge government SUV. Thankfully the trip turned out to be relatively short, just a few miles past the Potomac River.

Mike sat next to me in the passenger seat. Though his advances were annoying, he was good at his job. I'd wanted him on my team immediately. _My team_. The thought was still weird. _I_ would be heading this investigation. I hoped I could pull it off.

After clearing security and parking, we stepped into one of the most modern-looking lobbies I'd ever seen. If I hadn't already donned my professional expression, I might have ogled the high-class walls and glittery fountains of the reception area. That certainly wouldn't convey a sense of authority. _Come on, Bella, get it together._

"We've got a 2 pm with Mr. Cullen," I informed the receptionist. Dressed in a skimpy designer skirt and silk blouse that put my tired office suit to shame, she made a striking figure. Long blond hair fell in waves down her back, her features expertly highlighted by makeup that likely cost more than I earned in a week.

"And you are?" she nearly sneered from her office throne. Clearly she hadn't picked up the federal vibe suits like mine usually send. "FBI here to see Mr. Cullen. At 2 pm," I demanded. "So, if you don't mind, could you direct me to his office?" For effect, I flashed my badge. That bought a bit more cooperation. I didn't feel bad for being snippy; she was bitchiness personified.

"Of course," she cooed, "just take the elevators up to the top floor. Mr. Cullen's personal secretary will assist you from there."

My eyes followed her out-stretched arm, finding a set of elevators across the lobby. Mike and I proceeded to the elevator, surprised to find an armed security guard inside. I guess that made sense since the CEO's life was in danger.

I nodded at the security guard and pushed the button that would take us to the top. The elevator whirled us upwards, making short work of the 20-something floors now beneath us.

I stepped off the elevator and found myself in the presence of an impossibly gorgeous woman. Her looks put the receptionist downstairs to shame. _What's up with all the hot women?_

"We're here to see Mr. Cullen," I repeated. "He's expecting us."

"Of course, this way please." Obviously _she_ could sense government agents better than her ground-floor counterpart. I followed, noticing her perfect figure and glossy auburn hair. She was flawless and obviously knew it. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mike ogling her as she sashayed in front of us. _Give me a break._

"Mr. Cullen," she said as she opened two ornate doors, "these FBI agents are here to see you."

"Show them in," I heard a velvety voice reply from within. The secretary beckoned for us to enter.

The office was spacious, taking up a large percentage of the top floor. Glass walls ran from ceiling to floor, sporting a breathtaking view of DC's skyline from afar. Exquisite, and expensive, furniture was tastefully tucked into every corner.

But it wasn't the view or the furniture I noticed. It was the man behind the desk. He was simply the most stunning person I'd ever seen. His bronze hair was amassed messily upon his head. His chiseled jaw framed a face so incredible I hardly believed it was attached to a human body. And his eyes—oh his eyes—I gazed at molten puddles of emerald, accentuated by thick, dark lashes.

"Is there something wrong with her?" I heard the voice ask in frustration. Oops. I guess I had been staring a few seconds too long.

"Bella?" Mike looked at me quizzically, nudging me slightly.

Huh? "Oh, yes. Mr. Cullen," I stumbled, "I'm Agent Swan and this is Agent Newton. We're here to ask you a few questions about this morning's incident."

He nodded. I watched his face, mesmerized. He motioned for us to sit in the plush chairs opposite his.

"May I offer you something to drink?" he asked. Interesting. The man had nearly been killed today and he was being hospitable.

Again, I was caught in his gaze and words failed me. Mike jumped to my rescue, "No thanks." _What was wrong with me?_

I took another second to try to pull together some semblance of a sentence and began, "Mr. Cullen, can you tell us what happened this morning?"

"You should already know," he barked. I noticed his eyes were hard and his jaw was set in an angry line. His sudden animosity caught me off guard. What was his problem? He looked positively pissed.

_Bella,_ my inner voice soothed,_ he's just been through a near-death experience. Cut the man some slack._

"We have our initial report, but we need to hear the details from you. There's only so much a report can tell us." He seemed slightly mollified by my explanation, but his eyes still held an edge of hostility.

"This morning, around 8, I was sitting in my car alone talking to an important client. I was so focused on my conversation that I didn't notice a car pull up near me. I heard a loud bang when a shot aimed at my head ricocheted off the window, leaving a small mark. If I didn't drive a bulletproof vehicle, I'd be dead. I saw a black Mercedes speed away. The windows were tinted so I couldn't see anyone inside. Our cameras no doubt caught the plate number."

"What did you do next?"

"I called security and waited in my car."

"Do you have any idea who might want you dead?" He pondered that question for a bit, not appearing to be shaken in the least.

"Honestly, I think you'd be better off asking who _wouldn't_ want me dead. I run the largest weapons manufacturing firm in the country. Not even counting nut-jobs who oppose national defense, nearly every terrorist organization on the planet would be eager to see my company destroyed. There would be no better way to halt the United States' foreign policy than if she had no means by which to defend herself."

Hmm, this was going to be harder than I thought.

"So there's no one who stands out as a likely suspect in your mind?"

He shook his head. _Damn_.

"Has there been any recent violence against you or your family or anyone who works here?"

"No, nothing. In fact, it's been unusually quiet as of late. Typically we receive dozens of death threats a year, but we've gotten nothing in the last few months." He puzzled over his revelation as I puzzled over him. _Why was I so violently attracted to this man?_

"Those are all the questions we've got for now. We'd like to take a look at your tapes and try to find the weakness in your security system." He bristled at my words, almost like I'd physically struck him.

"There's _nothing_ wrong with our security!" he snapped, his verdant eyes suddenly afire. "It's obviously a mistake to let a _child_ handle my case." He glared at me and I actually felt like a bumbling child, for a second…but only for a second. Any charity I'd previously felt for him evaporated. Normally not a confrontational person, his words sparked my ire.

"_Obviously_," I spat the word, "they got through _your_ security somehow! Finding the weak link might provide a lead." His expression flickered for a moment and something akin to surprise briefly contorted his features. Surely he would have deduced that much himself. Maybe he was just too proud. After all, it must be embarrassing for the CEO of a defense firm to have his own defenses breeched.

"Fine," he growled, pushing a button on his phone. "Nancy, will you come in here?"

The modelesque woman opened his door, "Yes, Mr. Cullen?"

"Take these agents to the security room. Let them see anything they need."

He turned to look back at us, dismissing us with his eyes. But I wasn't finished quite yet with my questions.

"Are you reachable here?" I asked. He nodded, curtly. His eyes were still angry. "Plan on staying in town for awhile."

I had no idea what I'd done to illicit such a response from him. I hardly knew the man. Maybe there was something wrong with him, like a mental illness. I hoped that whatever problem he had wouldn't impede my investigation. I'd likely see a lot more of Mr. Cullen over the next few weeks, or months, and the last thing I needed was an irritable witness.

"Well then, have a nice afternoon and we'll be in touch." I infused my voice with as much professionalism as I could muster and rose to leave.

In my haste to get away from his penetrating gaze, my foot caught on the leg of the chair I had been sitting in. I tumbled forward, landing hard on my hands and knees. _Shit._ That was the last thing I needed, as if I hadn't already been an oafish fool before.

Mike quickly leaned down to help me up. "Are you okay?" he whispered. I rose shakily, nodded and swiftly retreated. Warmth filled my cheeks and I was glad to be facing away from Mr. Cullen. I didn't want him to see me red-faced. If he had thought I was a child before, seeing me embarrassed wouldn't help instill confidence in him now.

"Agent Swan?" I heard a voice—a voice I didn't want to hear—behind me. "Try to be more careful around my security system. It's very expensive and I really don't want to replace it." I turned then, hoping the color had dissipated from my face. He smirked, obviously entertained by my clumsiness. _Ass._

I resumed my flight, trying not to trip again. I could tell my time at the Cullen Corporation would be far from pleasant.

---

Mike and I spent a few hours reviewing the security tapes from earlier in the day. The black Mercedes didn't have a license plate so we wouldn't find much on that front. The cameras outside the parking garage weren't much help either. We checked and re-checked footage from every camera. Since Cullen Corp. had hundreds, it took awhile; luckily, we knew precisely what timeframe to analyze. Finally, we double-checked to make sure that nothing else unusual was recorded and went back to the office.

Having skipped lunch, and now dinner, I was famished—not to mention tired and cranky from dealing with _Mr. Cullen. _

"Hey Mike, I'm going to go home. See you tomorrow." I was beat. He was briefly surprised—usually I didn't leave the office much during a big case. I needed to clear my mind though. Mr. Cullen was disconcerting and my concentration was shot.

"Uh…okay Bella. See you tomorrow." He looked a bit glum. Clearly he had expected to spend some more time with me tonight. "Goodnight."

I walked the few short blocks from FBI headquarters to the Federal Triangle metro stop. A metro ride, one short car trip and 30 minutes later I was home. My cramped two-bedroom apartment, located just outside DC in Alexandria, cost almost as much per month as my entire rent for a semester in college.

I grabbed a quick microwave dinner, too tired to bother with cooking, and hopped in the shower. The hot water eased away the day and I felt myself relaxing for the first time in hours.

I needed to think. Edward Cullen's life depended on me and my ability to crack this case. True, he was a prick. But he didn't deserve to die just because he had said a few less-than-kind words to me today. I would try my hardest to capture the people who had tried to kill him.

I went to bed that night and slept, but not restfully. Green eyes that grew more and more angry haunted my dreams. Somehow they morphed into blue eyes, the pair that had stalked my nightmares for a decade. They never lessened in intensity. When I saw those same green eyes glazed and milky, attached to a dead body, I woke with a muffled scream. Years of nightmares had conditioned me to sleep into my pillow. My neighbors would appreciate my efforts if they knew how often I yelled out in the night.

A familiar feeling gnawed in the pit of my stomach. It had been years since I slept without dreaming some permutation of that day. Obviously today would be no different. The only difference was Edward Cullen's intrusion into my nightmare.

My clock read 5:13 am. I guess it was about time to get up anyway.

I got dressed and headed to work. I needed to expend a little bit of energy. Luckily, the FBI had spared no expense when installing a gym in its expansive basement.

As I pounded away at the punching bag, my mind retraced what I knew of the case so far. Whoever had tried to kill Cullen was good, too good. This was obviously a professional job, funded by a person or organization that knew security systems quite well and had the resources to overcome the best technology on the market.

That narrowed down the suspect list quite a bit, but only made things harder. A professional organization was much tougher to bring down than a few thugs. I had my work cut out for me.

I glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly 8:30. _Crap. _I'd let my thoughts wander way too far. I needed to get dressed and upstairs _now_.

I managed to rinse off, dress and rush upstairs with just a few seconds to spare. I dropped my purse on my desk and headed to Mitch's office. His door was slightly ajar and I could hear him talking to someone on the phone. Not wanting to eavesdrop, I started to head back to my office. His tone surprised me as I heard the next words explode from his mouth.

"Well Mr. Cullen, I'm sorry you feel that way, but she'll be staying on the case. What she lacks in age she more than makes up for in experience. I know you think you've got some say in the matter, but you don't. _I_ decide who takes what case and I've decided Special Agent Swan is in charge of yours!"

I couldn't breathe for a second. Edward Cullen wanted me off the case? Because I was young? I was beyond stunned. Why on earth was he acting so erratically? I mean, sure, he was angry yesterday for whatever reason, but to have me pulled from the case? And for what? I'd just started working on the case. There's no way anyone could've unraveled it within a day.

"Well you're welcome to do that. But I don't care how many senator friends you have, my authority in this matter is non-negotiable." Mitch was clearly beyond livid. I knew it was wrong to keep listening, but I couldn't pull myself away.

"Good day to you too _Mr. Cullen_."

I tapped lightly on the door. "Come in!" Mitch bellowed. Hmm, maybe now wasn't the best time…

"Oh hi, Bella, I was just about to come and talk to you. Please shut the door and sit down." Gulp.

Better to fess up. "Uh, Mitch, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop but I caught the last bit of your phone call there. So, I'm off the case?"

Anger flitted across his nearly-purple face. Maybe I shouldn't have admitted to spying on him.

"Absolutely not. I don't care what Cullen says, you're more than qualified to handle this assignment." Whew, he wasn't mad at me – and he wanted me to stay on the job. I could deal with Edward Cullen later.

"Good. I actually came to ask if there has been any new information?"

He shook his head. "Have you made any progress?"

"No," I hesitated. Would he have me removed after all? "But I think it's pretty clear that we're dealing with a pro." He nodded as I continued, "I know that you've got your theory about the Italians, but I have to see where the evidence leads so I'm keeping that one on the back-burner for now."

"I think that's wise. I also wanted to let you know that I'm assigning a round-the-clock detail to Cullen. His death would have some serious repercussions for national defense so I don't want to take any chances."

"Who's going to lead the team?" Hopefully someone I worked well with.

"Hale," he said.

Oh good, Rosalie was one of my favorite agents. Although tough as steel, she and I had a great time together. She was my sparring partner and drinking buddy all rolled into one.

"Good choice, sir." He smiled—it was no secret Hale and I worked well when paired. She'd kick Cullen's ass if he stepped out of line. That visual image cheered me.

"What's on your agenda for today, Bella?"

"I was planning on going back over to Cullen Corp. to interview some of the employees. It's probably a fruitless endeavor, but I want to make sure to speak to anyone who saw something that might be even remotely helpful."

"Okay, good. Let me know if you need any more resources. I'd like to put this one to bed as soon as we can."

"Yes, sir. And…thank you. For sticking up for me, that is. I'm glad you've got my back."

Mitch grunted, uncomfortable at my brief display of gratitude. I think emotion scared him more than armed terrorists**. **A sudden flash of Charlie's face danced before me, eliciting a pain I'd tried so hard to suppress. Mitch and Charlie were alike in a lot of ways. I took a second and shoved the memory back down. It wouldn't be good for me to break down in Mitch's office.

"Sure, now get back to work Special Agent Swan." I hid my smile at his sudden formality, shuffling from his office, then walked back down the hall.

---

"Hey, Mike, I need to talk to Cullen again. Can you review the case file? I have a feeling that we're missing something."

"But…er…don't you want me to come with you?" No, I didn't, not in the least.

"No, I've got it covered. I'll be back in a few hours so we can brainstorm a bit."

"Okay."

---

"How may I help you?" The blonde bombshell I met yesterday was definitely alluring. Seated behind her desk with an array of flashing buttons she looked more like a pilot at the controls of a complicated aircraft than a mere receptionist.

"I'm here to see Mr. Cullen again," I informed her, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.

"I'm afraid he's out of town on an important business trip. Did you need anything else?"

"Out of town?" That was unexpected, and foolish. Why would he leave town when it was obvious that his life was in peril? "When will he be back? I've got some more questions that I need him to answer as soon as possible."

"He didn't leave his schedule with us so we really don't have any idea when Mr. Cullen will return," she purred, smiling at me. I could tell it was fake. She was the perfect actress but her words were laced with too much saccharine sweetness to be genuine.

"Well, Mr. Cullen is part of an ongoing investigation. Unless he would like to face legal sanction, I suggest he make himself available," I threatened, knowing it would make no difference. If he had friends in the Senate there was no way he'd ever be penalized for skipping town.

"I'll be sure to let him know. You have a nice day now," she hinted.

"Actually, there are a few other people I need to question. Would you _please_ direct me to the employee parking garage?" I'd been to the public lot before but, for security purposes, Cullen Corp. had a separate lot for its employees. She gave me directions after a puzzled expression momentarily distorted her face.

"Thanks so much," I said sweetly while mentally flipping her off. What a bitch.

I found the garage easily enough—the attendant's booth was another matter. This lot was impossibly large. After searching for what felt like days, I finally found the exit and approached.

"Excuse me," I said while tapping on the glass, "I need to find the security guard on duty."

The attendant hesitated long enough for me to flash my badge then he was suddenly much more cooperative.

"Frank's on the clock now. His office is right over there," he said, pointing.

"Thanks," I called behind my shoulder, walking toward Frank's office.

Knocking again, I jumped a bit when a kindly older man opened the door on the first tap.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Special Agent Swan from the FBI. I need to ask you a few questions."

"Come in, Agent Swan." Frank was nearly 60 and, I surmised, close to retirement. Mischievous blue eyes sparkled from beneath peppery-gray brows. His lined face betrayed a life that had one time been full of adventure. I took note, of course, of a futuristic-looking gun strapped to his hip. Instinctively, I touched my own firearm, nestled in its holster within my suit-coat.

I began questioning him about yesterday morning. He was the security officer on duty. He had noticed nothing out of the ordinary until he heard a car crash through the security barrier. "I don't know how they got into the garage. We have the place on lock-down. They would have needed a security card."

"Who issues those cards?" I asked.

"Mr. Cullen's personal secretary is in charge of granting someone the proper clearance. I don't know who actually makes the cards, but Nancy would be able to tell you."

After asking a few more follow-up questions and thanking him, I headed back inside the main building. Pressing the button that would whisk the elevator to the top floor, I took a few moments to gather my thoughts, all but ignoring the uniformed man riding along with me. The perpetrators had access to the garage. They were probably in such a rush to leave that they had just driven through the gate. The Mercedes would have extensive damage to the front or have been recently repaired. That would narrow the search somewhat.

The shrill ding of the elevator snapped me out of my thoughts. I stepped off and approached Nancy's desk. She was engrossed in whatever she doing, obviously startled when I spoke.

"Excuse me, Nancy, I need to talk to you," I began. She looked at me with an odd expression, like she was guilty about something. Maybe she was involved in this plot? My musing ceased when I heard a familiar, smooth-sounding voice seep through her intercom.

"Nancy, would you please get Senator Billings on the phone? I need to review some contract details with him. Oh, I could also use some coffee."

"Yes, Mr. Cullen," she responded, woodenly.

"He's in his office?" I stated in disbelief. Why had he manufactured a story about leaving town if he was, in fact, still very much _in_ town? Would he really manufacture a story just to avoid me?

She hesitated. "You know," I began casually, "it's a _federal offense_ to lie to a sworn officer of the law." She gulped as I continued, "So, if Mr. Cullen is in his office and you _lie_ to me about it you'll be in some deep water."

"Yes," she whispered, "he's in there. But he's busy…" She trailed off as I walked toward the doors. This was going to get ugly, fast.


	2. Confrontations

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and favorited this story so far! Y'all rock. This chapter ends with a cliff-hanger, but I promise Chapter 3 will be up soon! For those who just cannot wait, the first three chapters of this story are posted at twilighted. Here, however, you will find the better-edited editions. 

Thanks to patsyrobinson for being an awesome beta!

And, a disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, I merely toy with Stephenie Meyer's world for my own joy and entertainment!

---

_Bella _

He was more than shocked when I flung his massive double doors wide open. One cracked satisfyingly against the wall as I stormed in.

"Excuse me Roger, I'm going to have to call you back." He hung up the phone and rose from behind his desk.

He was livid, fists clenched at his sides, eyes hard pools of green. "Just who the hell do you think—" but I cut him off. I was not in the mood to play nice. I worked hard to maintain a professional demeanor and to refrain from calling him the slew of colorful four-letter words that danced on the tip of my tongue, aching for release.

Instead of letting loose, I settled for a rather tame version of my thoughts. "You've got some nerve, _Mr. Cullen_. First you try to get me taken off of _my_ case, and then you have your people _lie _to a federal officer about your whereabouts! Are you _trying_ to impede my investigation?" I was pissed and, unlike a certain someone, I actually had a reason for my fury. I'd never questioned a victim quite as vigorously before. But, hell, he angered me.

"Look, I don't care how much _experience _you've got, you're obviously too young to be heading up this case. How old are you? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? Too much is at stake. It's nothing personal, but I want someone capable of apprehending these criminals. And you, well, you're just _not_." His tone was even, chilling, though I could tell that his blood was boiling. "Besides, if you were halfway competent, you'd realize that faking a business trip would throw off whomever is after me. It'd be hard for them to kill me if they can't find me. You've effectively ruined my plan now."

His logic made sense on some level, but his lack of communication did not. "You should have made my office aware of your true location," was my brilliant retort.

"You're not my babysitter. I don't have to tell you where I go or whom I see or what I do. I don't have to trust some underage _girl_ with my safety. And you can rest assured that you'll be off this case in no time flat."

"Well, luckily for me it's _not_ up to you. And I will run this investigation the way _I_ see fit. If you're not happy with that then feel free to hire your own investigator. Just stay out of my way." I didn't know where my sudden boldness came from. The fact that he was trying to remove me from this case aggravated me to no end; the name-calling didn't help either.

"And, though this isn't even remotely your business, I'm twenty-eight. I've been working with the FBI for nearly ten years." A small fib, but only if one didn't count summer internships during college as work. I continued, wanting to impress upon him my qualifications. "I have far more experience that you give me credit for. I am _not_ some rookie agent still wet behind the ears. So. Back. Off." I enunciated each word slowly, letting him know that I meant business and wouldn't be intimidated. I watched him closely to gauge what kind of trouble he would give me now and if he'd back the hell off. He had cooled his features, wearing what I guessed was his well-practiced business expression so that he would give away nothing of his emotions.

Finally, he spoke. "I had my own investigator on the job before the FBI was even involved, but perhaps you two should coordinate your efforts—for as long as you're assigned to this case." I guess I should have realized a man in Mr. Cullen's position already had his own people working to clean up this mess. For some reason his admission caught me by surprise.

"That would be…helpful. Thanks." I couldn't catch myself before the last word popped out. Why should I be thanking him for his lack of faith in me and my organization? _Curses_!

"Here is his number. His name is Jasper Whitlock." He handed me a slip of high-quality, expensive paper with a number elegantly scribbled across it. I pocketed it.

"There are a few more questions I need to ask you, Mr. Cullen," I said, sitting down opposite from where he was still standing. I wasn't giving him an option. I flipped out my handy-dandy, FBI-issued steno-book and scribbled a few notes before I began. I wanted to make sure that I asked every question pertinent to the investigation.

He sat down wordlessly, a hard edge still lining his face.

"Frank told me that the perpetrators had access to the garage. Has anyone's security card been reported missing or stolen recently?" I worked to put my game face on. It was time to get down to business and put his childishness behind me—well, us. I wasn't alone in this little confrontation.

"No." I could tell he was going to make this difficult.

"Okay, I'll need a list of all the security cards issued to your employees within the last six months." That should be recent enough. Cullen Corp.'s latest negotiations with the government stretched back only four weeks before the deal was brokered. Cullen must have given them one steal of a deal for the process to have lasted such a short period of time.

"Nancy can get that for you." _Thanks, Mr. Personality, for gracing me with your answers, _I thought wryly.

"And, you haven't thought of anything else that could be useful?"

He shook his head as a buzzing in my pocket interrupted my line of questioning. Mike was calling.

"Excuse me for a moment, I need to take this." I stood up and moved toward the exit.

"Agent Swan," I answered.

"Bella, I think I might have found something. Can you get back here now?" Mike's voice held a hint of urgency, an emotion usually foreign to him. I couldn't remember a time when Mike was anything but laid back, if eager, even when working on the most gruesome of cases.

"I'm on my way." I snapped my cell shut and turned back to Mr. Cullen who was still seated behind his desk. My phone conversation hadn't been long enough for me to reach the doors. _Damn, his office is big._

"I've got to go, Mr. Cullen, but I expect that you'll be in town if I have any more questions?"

He nodded, again preferring wordless communication.

On my way to the elevator I asked Nancy to fax over a list of everyone who had received a security card within the last two months. She promised she would get to it right away.

I left the Cullen Corp. frustrated. _Why was he making this so difficult? _Perhaps he had more faith in a simple private investigator than he did in the government. I didn't exactly blame him. Red tape and procedural policy often hindered, or at least slowed, investigations. Still, I wasn't exactly a rookie. I had a few rather large notches on my belt and could skirt the rules when needed.

Fingering the slip of paper in my pocket, I reminded myself to call Jasper Whitlock the next chance I got and hurried to the lot.

---

_Edward_

That woman was _infuriating_. And yet, try as I might, I couldn't suppress my animalistic attraction to her. I had never been so powerfully drawn to anyone else in my life, and I'd had more than my fair share of women. Something about her lured me in like a siren's call. She sang to me.

I hadn't meant to be so rude to her but I didn't like the hold she had over me. Mother was always telling me I was prone to overreaction. I suppose my anger toward Agent Swan, _Bella_, might have been slightly out of line—but hell, I'd almost died. People could afford to cut me a few inches of slack.

I refocused my thoughts, trying to step back and analyze the situation. Bella wasn't beautiful, at least in the conventional sense. But her eyes were a warm, buttery brown. She had hair that cascaded down her back in dark auburn ripples. Her skin was translucent, silkier than any other woman I'd known—at least, that's how I imagined it would feel under my touch. I'd caught a faint whiff of her scent as she huffed into my office. She smelled heavenly. I imagined how she would taste and lost myself in a sensual fantasy involving Bella and various desserts. Annoyed, I snapped myself out my daydream and forced the yearning to devour her back down.

I couldn't help but admit that Bella Swan was an enigma. When she looked at me I found it hard to concentrate. When she yelled at me I found it hard not laugh. I didn't think a kitten could look more harmless when riled. When she had fallen in my office yesterday it had taken every ounce of brute discipline I had not to reach out and help her up. That would have surely been my undoing. I wonder how quickly she would run away and how loudly she would scream if she even realized that I had succumbed to rather base fantasies of her.

But, I had to give her credit. She had more balls than most of the men I interacted with on a daily basis. She didn't even pretend to kiss my ass. And she didn't hit on me. I was more than sick of women practically flinging themselves at me everywhere I went. I had yet to meet someone who could hold my interest for longer than a few months, though most didn't make it past the first date.

I found it highly disturbing that Bella had been assigned to my case. She hardly seemed qualified; she was bumbling and clumsy, and seemed more like a college student than a federal employee. Her supervisor had vehemently disagreed but I couldn't help but wonder if he had his own sick fantasies about her that might have been impairing his judgment. Why else would he have jumped to her defense so quickly? He was very protective of Bella.

Despite his confidence in her, I wasn't convinced. I had no reason to trust her and no knowledge of her background. She could be working for the very people trying to kill me for all I knew. My initial impression aside, she had caught me by surprise when she told me her age. I thought twenty-four was a stretch, but twenty-eight? She _might_ be more qualified than I had originally thought. And if she'd been working with the FBI for almost ten years she must've started interning during college. Interesting. I would have to call Jasper and see if I could get some information about this odd woman.

For now, I would do my best to get her removed anyway, though my conscience tingled a little at my motives for desiring her absence. I didn't like my attraction to her. I didn't want to be around her, at her mercy, day in and day out until this wretched case was solved—or until I died.

---

_Bella_

Mike was nearly wearing a hole in my office floor, pacing to and fro, when I returned. I'd taken the long route back to the office. My encounter with Mr. Cullen had left me a bit shaky. I truly loathed conflict, aside from capturing criminals, but I couldn't let him sully my reputation without at least giving him a piece of my mind—and I felt like I had at least held my own.

"Bella!" Mike all but screamed at me, screwing up his face much like a five-year-old does when he demands candy. What the hell was his hurry?

"Bella," he started again, still worked-up, "we got a picture from one of the traffic lights near Cullen Corp."

"Okay," I responded hesitantly, still trying to guess why Mike was so worked up, "so what's in it?"

"Come with me," he said, barely giving me time to finish my question as he hurried me out the door.

The audio-visual department took up an entire floor of the sizable Hoover building. Office after office was devoted to acquiring and analyzing video and audio recordings, pictures, and other media involved in hundreds of cases.

Mike led me to one of the viewing rooms and sat next to me at a computer that likely cost more than my car. A picture was up on the screen of a blue Honda running a red light. Behind it sat a black Mercedes. He pushed a few buttons and the image zoomed in on the Mercedes. Its bumper was smashed, as though it had been involved in a collision—_or had crashed through a security gate._ I grew excited.

"This picture was taken at about 8:15 yesterday morning. So, assuming that Mr. Cullen got the time of his attack right, this is the car that his attackers drove. Its position also gives us an idea of the direction they were heading. We might be able to find the car if they ditched it on their way out of town." Mike was right. Though the car would've undoubtedly been meticulously scrubbed of every incriminating fiber, it might still provide an invaluable clue. A partial print, a drop of sweat, even an eyelash could all propel the investigation one step further.

"Good job, Mike," I complimented him. He beamed momentarily before turning back to the screen.

"That's not all," he said, as he zoomed in closer. The resolution had started to get grainy. He cleaned up the image as best he could but it was still hard to make out. I saw two men in the front seat. Their faces were too blurry to distinguish any identifiable features.

"Can this be enhanced more?" I asked.

He nodded. "It'll take a few hours, maybe even a day, but I've got Johnson on it." David Johnson was simply one of the best tech-analysts I knew. If anyone could make this image usable, it would be Dave.

"Great, let me know when it's ready. Unless there's anything else, I've got to get back upstairs and make some phone calls." Mike was more than happy to escort me back to my office, despite my reassurance that I was perfectly capable of making it upstairs by myself. I wasn't particularly fond of his hand resting on the small of my back either. _Ugh_.

"Mike, remove your hand," I said in a perilously-low voice, "_now._" He grimaced at being called out but moved the offending appendage.

I sat behind my desk, waiting for Mike to leave, before getting back up and going to see Mitch.

I tapped lightly on his door and heard a gruff "Come in!" from inside.

I poked my head in. "Oh good, Bella, it's you. I'm getting damn sick of Newton constantly pestering me with every new idea he has." I smiled. Apparently I wasn't the only one whom Mike drove up a wall, though I highly doubted that he put his hand anywhere near Mitch's backside.

"Mitch, I went to see Mr. Cullen today." His expression stopped me in my tracks. It was not happy.

"What?!" he all but shrieked.

"Uh, I'm sorry, was I not supposed to go over there?"

"No, that's not it. Cullen is in town?" I gulped, forgetting that he had lied about his whereabouts. I didn't much care for the man but I also didn't want him to spend too much time in jail—or to die. Mitch's expression was positively murderous.

"Yes, he faked his business trip to throw off the people who want him dead." It made sense. But it still sucked that I had to explain all of this to the very red-faced Mitch.

"He shouldn't have lied to us. Hale went over there looking for him—Cullen's people told her he was gone!"

_Duh_, I had forgotten that a detail was supposed to be with him 24-7.

"Well, he's probably still over there. You should send her soon if you want to catch him before he decides to leave for real."

"You're right. It's like the bastard has a death wish. Why is he trying to hamstring this investigation?"

"He's got his own man on the job. I'm actually going to go call him right now to see if he's got any information that we don't."

Mitch didn't look surprised by this little revelation. "Figures. Cullen hasn't exactly made any attempt to hide his dissatisfaction with our progress. But honestly, what can he expect after just one day?" Mitch's sentiments echoed my own perfectly.

"I don't know. Mike and I are working on a few new leads. I promise I'll keep you posted," I added. He nodded and I went back to my office.

As I dialed the number written out on the sheet of paper before me, I couldn't help but grow a bit nervous. What if this Jasper Whitlock person had made more progress than I? What if he was closer to solving the case? That wouldn't do much to improve my reputation in the office—or at a certain corporation.

"Jasper speaking."

"Hello, Mr. Whitlock, this is Agent Swan from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Edward Cullen gave me your number."

"Ah, Agent Swan, I've been expecting to hear from you. We've got some matters to discuss. Where can I meet you?" I hadn't expected his enthusiasm.

"Uh, can you meet me downtown?"

"Yes."

"How about the Bistro D'OC in one hour?"

"See you then," he said just before our conversation clicked to an end.

Most of the PIs I'd worked with over the years had definite chips on their shoulders. They were under some impression that as a federal agent I looked down upon their work. Quite the opposite—there were certain boundaries that I couldn't cross as a government employee; they were free to hop over those boundaries any time a case demanded it. PIs were some of the most aggressive, tenacious people out there and I had nothing but respect for their craft. Jasper's eagerness to work with me was surprising, to say the least.

Thinking about boundaries invariably reminded me of the other person I needed to call. _Jake_. I wasn't looking forward to this conversation. Things were still strained between the two of us. But, I needed his help and it would be good to hear his voice, at least.

When I'd moved to DC, Jake had followed. He felt like it was his responsibility to keep an eye on me. He'd gone to the University of Arizona so we could spend my last two years there together. He had traipsed cross-country to DC less than a week after he graduated from college, putting his criminal justice degree to use by joining the police force here. With his physical strength and size he was a shoo-in with any police department he chose. And, to be honest, police work suited him. He had made great friends and enjoyed his job, but I still wished he would move back home.

He and I had entered law enforcement for the same reason. But, he reveled in the pure adrenaline rush of chasing down petty criminals, whereas I preferred to outwit them. He liked high-speed car-chases, bashing heads together, and stale cups of coffee. I enjoyed tracking clues down and analyzing them. He said that if he wanted to solve mysteries he'd do the crossword puzzle each Sunday. He needed action. I needed strategy. Outsmarting a mastermind was what my passion.

When Jake first came to DC we spent most of our free time together. It was almost like it had been back home…almost. But, the more we hung out the greater his expectations were. I knew that we would never get back together, but he always held out hope that we would.

I encouraged him to move back to Washington, reminding him of his obligations to his tribe and of family ties back in La Push. He'd adamantly argued that Billy, having married Sue Clearwater after Harry's death, was fine on his own and that Sam Uley was well-equipped to lead the Quileutes.

We got into a heated argument about it. I told him that I was a big girl and didn't need a lapdog following me around all the time. I was harsher than I should have been but he just wouldn't take a hint. He told me that I should stop living in the past and get a real life. I kicked him out of my apartment. Since then, things were never quite the same. We both had cooled off and apologized, but we didn't spend nearly as much time together. It was odd if we saw each more often than once a month at this point. I still considered him a friend, but I just wasn't as close to him anymore. The Jacob Black of my past died when my youth did.

"DC Metro Police, how may I direct your call?" a generic female voice greeted me.

"Officer Black, please."

"One moment." I listened to the Most Wanted list being rattled off in the background, in place of elevator music, before Jake picked up.

"Jacob Black."

"Hi, Jake, it's Bella."

"Bella! Hey! How are you doing?"

"Okay. I'm actually calling about a case. Do you have a few minutes?

"Absolutely. What's up?"

"Would mind checking to see if a black Mercedes has been picked up within the last 24 hours? The front bumper would be banged up a bit or recently repaired. No plates."

"Sure, let me make a few calls and I'll get back you."

"Great, thanks."

"No prob, Bells."

"Oh, and Jake?"

"Yes?"

"How are you?"

"I'm okay. I miss you."

And there it was, the reason I didn't want to call. I would always love Jake, in a way, but our relationship just didn't work out. I had been the one to break things off. Though he still seemed to hang onto a smidgen of hope that we'd end up together, I knew that would never happen.

"Yeah, I miss hanging with you too." I did miss him. I just didn't want anything other than friendship.

"Do you wanna hang out? You know, for old times' sake?"

"Are you sure that's the best idea, Jake?"

"I want to see you, Bella. I promise I won't go all soft on you. Just a movie or some kickboxing. Whatever you want."

"Sure, Sure, Jake, sounds like fun. I'll call you."

"Alright. Bye Bells."

"Bye Jake."

I thought about our relationship. It had been so natural at first. He was always so cheerful and I loved spending time with him. But I realized after we'd been going out for almost a year that I thought of him more like a friend than a lover. I hated to hurt him, but he deserved someone who could give all of herself to him. I just wasn't that person.

I stopped my pity-party and looked at the clock. _Eek!_ Time to get going. Located one block up and over, Bistro D'OC was my favorite lunchtime haunt—when I tore myself away from work, that is. I arrived a few minutes early and snagged a table adjacent to a window overlooking the street. From my perch I had a great view of Ford's Theatre.

The man I assumed to be Jasper arrived on time. I studied him as he approached. He was tall and handsome, with blonde hair expertly sculpted. _He probably spends more time getting ready in the morning than I do_, I laughed to myself. He had piercing blue eyes only intensified by the luscious lashes framing them.

"I'm Special Agent Bella Swan." I stood and shook his hand. He easily towered over my small frame.

"Nice to meet you Agent Swan, Jasper Whitlock at your service."

"Well, Mr. Whitlock—"

He cut me off, "Jasper." _Uh. Okay._

"Jasper, then, how much has Mr. Cullen told you?"

"I know everything that he knows. But I could use some more information to better investigate things on my end."

"I understand that. Unfortunately, as you're well-aware, the details of the case are classified. If we're going to discuss the investigation I need to know what you already know. I'm not permitted to divulge any new information to you."

He had surmised as much, though he didn't seem happy about it. "I see. Well, this might complicate things on my end. What do I get out of helping you? I have a reputation to uphold and I can't very well contribute if I'm kept in the dark."

"I understand your dilemma, Jasper. I can tell you this—if we're on the same page, we can discuss theories…hypothetically, of course."

He caught my double-meaning at once. Of course I hadn't expected him to give up all of his intel while he got nothing in return. I'd cooperate with him in a roundabout way.

"Well then, Agent Swan—"

It was my turn to interrupt, "Bella."

"Well then, Bella," he started again, "let's get to work." He grinned at me then, unleashing his Southern charm. Though I'd only known him for minutes, I felt at ease. He had a natural charisma that made him easy to talk to. A little too easy. I'd have to be careful not to overstep my bounds here and give away national secrets.

We spent a couple of hours exchanging data. He seemed impressed by the amount of progress I'd made over the last twenty-eight hours. "You know, coming here, I expected to be dealing with an absolute dolt," he said. "Edward wasn't very positive when he described you."

"I figured not. To be honest, Jasper, I don't understand why he dislikes me so much. It seems like he hated me from the moment I opened my mouth."

"That doesn't sound like Edward. Usually he's professional and polite, especially to the ladies." Jasper paused, looking briefly confused. "I bet he's just shaken up over what happened yesterday. He's never been threatened so overtly before."

I tried to take comfort in his words but somehow Jasper left me more exacerbated than before. Being rude to the agent who was trying to unravel his case didn't seem like the best game-plan.

"Yeah, I agree," he replied. _Crap_, I hadn't meant to speak that last thought aloud.

"Still, I'd give him a chance. I think he'll come around. It's not like you have a third eye or webbed hands," he joked. "Plus you really seem to know what you're talking about." Being around Jasper was fun. He was a catch—and I had just the friend for him too, assuming he was single.

We finished up our lunch and headed out, promising to regroup again in a few days.

On my way back to the office, I flipped open my phone and called Alice. Being with Jasper made me think of her and how long it'd been since we'd had some genuine girl time. I got her voicemail. She was probably swamped. Working as an apprentice of sorts for an aspiring designer didn't afford her much personal time. DC wasn't really known as a big fashion Mecca but she'd managed to find a job working with an up-and-coming designer who loved the area too much to move to New York.

I laughed out loud, startling a few nearby pedestrians by my random outburst, as I thought of the first time I'd met Alice Brandon. I had just moved to DC and needed a new suit for my job. Not knowing where to begin, I decided that the nearest mall would be as good a choice as any. I stepped out of a dressing booth to check out a suit in the full-length mirror and nearly knocked over a strange little woman. I apologized as she looked me up and down, shook her head and demanded that I take off the suit. I was too confused to argue. As soon as I came back out she grabbed my hand and whirled me around the department store. I had to explain a few times that pink was not an acceptable color to wear when working for the federal government. She huffed, but gave in eventually. By the end of the day I had three new suits that fit so well it was like they had been designed with me in mind. After exchanging numbers, she happily announced, "I think you and I are going to be great friends!" And, she was right—we were.

Alice still gave me grief over those suits. I hadn't needed to replace them yet, in my opinion. They were a little worn, true, but they were quite comfortable and I felt at ease when I wore them. At least once a month she pushed and prodded to take me shopping but I managed to avoid it. The last time I'd been shopping with Alice it had taken two security guards and a random shopper to drag her away from the store when it closed. Though she was tiny, she sure was resilient. She had resisted vehemently, shouting some nonsense about the _perfect_ skirt that might not be there tomorrow. I was not about to put myself through that again.

"Hey, Al, it's me. I just wanted to say hi. It's been way too long, we need to catch up. I think I've got some time this weekend. Lemme know, and call me back!" It was easy to forget about all the horror in the world and to just be a young woman when I was around Alice. Her personality was captivating. And, she had more energy than anyone I'd ever met.

Thoughts about Alice fueled my walk back to the office. I spent the rest of the day going over Cullen's file, trying to make sure I wasn't missing anything. Mike said goodbye to me on his way out at around 7. I didn't look at the clock again until it was nearly 10. _Yikes_. I had been way too absorbed in this case.

I purposely left the file on my desk so I wouldn't be tempted to work at home tonight. I needed some time to clear my mind and think about something other than Edward Cullen.

---

Getting off the metro, I focused on finding my car in the nearly-empty parking garage. I rounded the corner, totally absorbed in thinking about the case—so much so that I didn't even see them coming until it was too late.

Calloused hands grabbed me, shoving me into a corner. We were under a staircase on the bottom floor, so deep in shadow that no passersby would see anything. There were two of them. One had his hand cupped tightly over my mouth to keep me from screaming, pinning my right side to the concrete wall with his massive body. The other reached inside my suit-coat and grabbed my sidearm, tossing it far out into the parking lot. He face was mere inches from my own. Both wore masks.

"If you know what's good for you, Bella, you'll ditch Cullen's case," the one who had snatched my weapon snarled. His words caught me by surprise. _How did they know about work? _ _How did they know my name? _No, not just my name—they knew my _nickname._

He suddenly socked me in the stomach. As I struggled to recover from unexpected pain, the other released my body and punched me roughly in the face, sending my mind reeling. I fell, landing hard on the grimy surface.

This day had just gone from bad to worse.


	3. Perspectives

_Edward_

"I'm telling you, Edward, you should give Bella a chance. She seems super cool and has made some real progress on your case," Jasper continued. This conversation was beyond tiring. If I had to hear one more word about how great Agent Bella Swan was I would just kill myself and save whomever was after me the trouble.

"Look, Jasper, I don't really want to talk shop. Especially not with blondie keeping tabs on my every move." I gestured to the light-haired bimbo posing as an FBI agent. She was sitting a few chairs away at the bar, keeping a covert eye on us. I downed my Glenlivet, ordering another double shot, neat. It wasn't the best scotch on the face of the planet but it would do the trick.

"Fine, whatever Edward. Just try to be decent to Bella. She's doing the best job she can." That's what I was afraid of. Her "best job" would likely get me killed if I left matters solely in her hands. Thankfully I had Jasper, among others, to rely upon—though he seemed to think that Agent Swan had made as much progress as he had, if not more.

"You got it," I said wickedly. Any thoughts of charity I'd had earlier this afternoon were gone. Maybe it was the fact that Jasper seemed all too smitten with her or perhaps it was the alcohol burning its way down my throat—I wasn't sure what had soured my disposition yet again but I had no intention of making things easier on her. She'd have to learn that big, doe eyes and crazy sex appeal wouldn't get her anywhere in the world of crime-fighting. However, if she were to choose a less noble career path…

A voice much too shrill for my liking cut through my pleasant fantasy of Bella Swan, naughty FBI agent extraordinaire. "Pack it in boys, the bar's about to close." I glared up at Agent Hale. I most certainly_ was not _ready to go. I shook my head, waving her off with my hand. I found that my actions didn't fly so well when she grabbed the back of my seat and tipped it forward, spilling me out. I barely caught myself before tumbling to the ground like some drunken slob. I definitely wasn't drunk…I hoped.

"What the hell!" I shouted at her smug face. She wasn't intimidated in the least. Maybe I was losing my touch. Usually people cowered at least a little when I was angry.

"Okie dokie," Jasper said loudly, cutting off my tirade. He was far too cheerful, having obviously found Rosalie Hale entertaining. Was he crushing on FBI Barbie? I certainly hoped not.

Tonight had been a major bust. I'd expected to commiserate with Jasper about Bella, now that he'd met her. Instead, he had come to her defense at every turn. He'd even called me whiny at one point.

_Why was he so enthralled with Agent Swan?_ He must find her as appealing as I did, at least on a sexual level. At the thought of Bella and Jasper together a sudden surge of jealousy welled within my chest. Ugh! Bella Swan could see anyone she wanted. It shouldn't matter to me! I worked to keep my emotions at bay as we headed out into the DC air, hating myself for wondering what she was up to tonight.

---

_Bella_

The thugs fled after getting two cheap shots in--but not before I was able to get a good grip on the foot of the one who had hit me. He tumbled to the ground and kicked against my grasp, instantly igniting my training. I ignored a shooting pain in the hand that had stopped his flight. Somersaulting heels over head, I jumped lithely to my feet, stomping on his groin before he could wriggle away. He cried out in agony, fueling the burgeoning monster inside me. I wanted to see these bastards suffer.

His partner had realized what was happening and returned. The fact that he didn't rush me head-on belied his experience. Instead, he slowly stalked me, casually taking off his mask so that he could see better. This simple act prompted a fresh wave of adrenaline. Once a skilled perpetrator revealed himself he planned on silencing his victim for good. My death would certainly send a message to whomever took up the case after me.

I forced myself to focus. I knew I could take this scum. In the dimly-lit surroundings I could barely make out his olive-toned skin and dark hair. _He certainly looks Italian._

Once my rival realized that he had the numbers to end this fight as soon as his partner recovered, he was in no hurry to pounce. He kept me in the corner away from my gun. I knew I couldn't take them both on at the same time—as did he. So, I acted first and lunged.

He easily sidestepped my assault, swinging his fist around to strike me. I was faster, ducking while simultaneously smashing my elbow into his ribcage. I felt a few ribs give way under the force of my blow. He bellowed at the pain but was not incapacitated. Instead he was pissed. Anger sizzled from him so intensely that I could nearly taste it.

His fingers caught my throat in an unexpected and crushing move, slamming me once more against the wall. I lifted my legs, allowing the force of his movement to keep my body upright for one moment, and pushed off against his hips. He staggered back, releasing me. I fell but landed on my feet and quickly fisted his neck, returning the favor. He stumbled, struggling for air. The strength of impact was not enough to collapse his wind-pipe but he'd have difficulty speaking for weeks.

His partner had regained control and was rising to meet me. The mask he wore was also missing, revealing coloring similar to the other assailant. He was the more reckless of the pair, most likely propelled by the throbbing in his groin. As he charged, I saw a flash and realized he had unsheathed a knife. _Shit._ He swung and I backed away into the corner once more, barely dodging the tip of his weapon. He raised the fist that was clenching his knife, intent on plunging the blade into me.

I grabbed his hand before he could bring it down upon me and slammed it into my knee, wanting to dislodge the weapon from his grasp. I tried to avoid any sharp edge—and failed. The knife grazed my leg as it clattered to the floor. I cringed as pain seared into me. He attempted to hit me yet again. I willed the pain away as I deflected his punch into the wall. His scream was gratifying as he pummeled concrete instead of my face. I kneed him in the groin once more and kicked him backward but he didn't fall.

Finally, I deprived him of consciousness by elbowing him in the face. He smacked against the pavement and grew still.

His friend was still conscious, though not in any condition to fight. He clutched at his throat, struggling for each breath. The sadistic part of my psyche took over as I approached him. He would feel pain tonight and think twice before ever assaulting another woman again. He tried to back away but it was no use. I palmed his nose, breaking it as blood splayed forth. It was a shame for him that he hadn't passed out yet. Aiming for his face once more, I jump-kicked, reveling in his cries of agony. More blood spewed from his injury. I focused on his torso, breaking ribs and wrenching gargled screams from him.

"You really are pathetic, aren't you?" I taunted him. The sick part of me was enjoying herself.

"Fuck…" he barely whispered.

"You," I finished for him, grabbing hold of his garments and plowing his head into the wall. He fell to the ground, inches from his companion. Neither moved.

I took a second to calm myself. The unexpected nature of the attack had me reeling. But, more than that, my anger was so fierce that I could hardly breathe. Rage coursed through me and I struggled to still the shaking that'd seized me.

I mentally assessed the physical damage that the scuffle had inflicted upon me. The side of my face was throbbing and my throat ached. My stomach was tender from where he had struck me. Blood seeped from leg, but not profusely. My hands were sore from scraping against the ground in my initial fall and from beating these criminals senseless. Two or three fingers were possibly broken. I ignored the pain, for now, and focused on the task at hand.

I quieted my mind, willing it to analyze their reason for attacking me. This case was obviously much, much bigger than I had thought. They had the resources to find out about my life and keep tabs on me. I needed to make some progress...and soon. This game had just gotten deadlier.

I searched through my briefcase, which had toppled to the ground during the first few seconds of my encounter with these thugs, and willed my phone to be intact. It was. My damaged fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons of my cell.

"This is Agent Swan, I need a security detail _now_," I told the operator, describing where I was and what had happened. Snapping my phone shut, I waited in the dark, ensuring that the two men didn't wake up before the authorities could arrive. Ten minutes later two black SUVs screeched to a halt in front of the staircase.

---

I unlocked the door to my apartment shakily. The past few hours were finally catching up with me. I noticed that the clock on the kitchen stove read 3:00am.

It had taken quite awhile for the agents who responded to my call to finish debriefing me. The medic also insisted on appraising my injuries and patching me up. Luckily he was able to stitch closed the gash on my leg there instead of taking me to the hospital. That was the _last_ thing I wanted. My fingers were just sprained, thankfully.

Now, I could rest for a few hours. Those horrible men were in custody and, all things considered, were actually good news for my case. I now had two bona fide, living and mostly breathing bodies to interrogate. Their intrusion into my evening also proved that I was on the right track with this investigation. I couldn't ignore how very _Italian_ each man had looked, even more so when carted off under the brighter lights of the garage. This put a new spin on things.

I tossed in bed for a few hours, sleep not quite taking me. If I was honest with myself, I knew it wasn't tonight's attack that deprived me of sleep. It was another encounter, so long ago, that haunted me. I wasn't as well-trained then. Subconsciously I shuddered as I rubbed one of the scars that would forever bring me back to that day. Visions of cold eyes, brutal pain and mind-numbing fear raged within me until I was rescued by the shrill scream of my alarm. Time for another day at the office.

I got up stiffly, still shuddering at the memories. The hot water of my shower helped to wash away unpleasant thoughts. I gingerly dressed, trying hard not to nudge my fresh wounds. My hands ached at the simple morning tasks. When I began to brush my hair at the mirror I noticed my face for the first time since it had happened. From my vantage, the whole right side was swollen. A furious bruise ran along my jaw from chin to ear. Nearly-black shadows rimmed my eyes, announcing my sleepless night to all who dared glance at me. I looked horrible. _There goes my modeling career_, I thought wryly. I chucked to myself before realizing that the movement aggravated my injury.

I wore a dark turtleneck underneath my suit coat to hide the handprint etched into my neck. It hurt to swallow and talking would be a chore today too. I spoke a few words out loud, making sure my voice didn't betray the injury hiding beneath my clothing. I sounded alright, if a bit raspy. I caved and swallowed two ibuprofen tablets before heading out the door. The last thing I needed today was someone questioning my ability to do my job. If a few blue pills could help me out in that department, so be it.

I snagged what would no doubt be the first of many cups of coffee at the cart right outside the massive building that housed the national headquarters for the FBI. Somehow the grimy coffee-pot we had in our department didn't satisfy. I flashed my badge to the guard, handing him my gun and coffee, and slid through the metal detectors. Retrieving my weapon and beverage, I headed up to my office. I reminded myself to hit the range soon to make sure that my gun was still functional after being so roughly treated last night, even though the agents that had responded to my call assured me it was fine.

Before I could even unlock my door, Mike was there. He looked me up and down, for once probably not noticing my gender-specific curves. His eyes rested on my face and he appeared…worried.

"Bella! Bella! Are you alright?" His concern was actually more touching than annoying.

"Yes, I'm fine Mike," I assured him.

"I was so worried about you! Didn't you get my calls?" Hmm, calls? Nope. I pulled my cell out of my briefcase and checked. 14 missed calls. "You called me 14 times?" I asked.

"Uh, no, only about 6," he said sheepishly. _Who else had called?_ The office had called another 5 times. Jasper, my mother and Alice had each called once. I hoped it was just a coincidence that Renee had called me the same night I happened to be the victim of an assault.

"Bella, can I talk to you in private?" Mitch's voice sounded from behind Mike.

"Sure. I'll catch up with you later Mike."

"Uh, okay Bella." Mike exited quickly.

Mitch gave me a once-over similar to Mike's appraisal before beginning. "Bella, I want to say how proud of you I am. Your actions last night prove that you're the right person for this case. I can't emphasize enough what an important lead these two men will provide." Mitch was gushing, like a proud papa. I'd never heard him babble on before—it was disconcerting and uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Mitch." I didn't know what else to say.

"I thought you might like to be a part of their interrogation?" he asked. I nodded.

"They will be more than shamed that a woman beat them senseless," I added, smirking. I instantly regretted that facial expression as pain shot up into my hairline. "Seeing me should agitate them and hopefully make getting intel a bit easier." This time, I avoided smiling.

"Were you checked out by a doctor?"

"The medic examined me last night. I'm fine, I promise. I just look like hell." He didn't push me further, apparently accepting my self-evaluation.

"Well, I actually want to talk to you about something else relating to last night. It's clear that you're in danger now too. So, effective immediately, I'm putting a security detail on you."

_What?! _"What?" My words echoed my thoughts. "Mitch, I can assure you that's not necessary. I'm more than..." He cut me off with his out-stretched palm.

"I know this seems unnecessary but I want to keep you safe. If nothing else happens over the next few weeks I'll cancel the order. Scout's honor." His eyes held a surprisingly playful edge. Clearly he was enjoying my discomfort.

"Fine. But I'm telling you this is completely unnecessary. It's just a waste of government resources."

He didn't argue with me further, obviously knowing that I was stuck doing whatever he ordered. Instead, he asked about my plans.

"I'm going back to the Cullen Corp to interview the employees whose records were flagged during my background check. I expect that will take up a good majority of my day. I also need to touch base with Jasper Whitlock again."

"Sounds good Bella. For now, take Mike with you wherever you go. Understood?" I nodded. This sucked. I didn't want to be saddled with Mike all day. He would pester me to no end.

Mitch left and I decided to call Jasper right away. "Hey Jasper, what are your plans for today?"

"Nothing much. I need to go over some of the details from our meeting yesterday. Other than that I'm pretty wide open. Why? Did you have something in mind?"

"I do, actually. Can you meet me again?"

We met at a coffee shop not too far away from the office. Mike accompanied me as I sat down and guzzled my second cup of coffee, strengthened by three shots of espresso. I had forgotten all about last night, for the most part, until I saw the expression on Jasper's face as he approached.

"Bella, are you alright? What happened to you?" He asked, eyeing Mike suspiciously.

"I'm fine Jasper." I felt like a broken record today. "It's a long story."

"I've got time," he pressed, sitting down across from me and ignoring Mike.

"Ugh, okay. I was on my home from the office late last night when two thugs tried to scare me off the case. I fought back and captured both of them for questioning." His features were contorted by shock. Was it really that impossible to believe that I could hold my own in a physical confrontation? Judging by how awkwardly I babbled when someone attacked me verbally, I guess it was—my usual lack of coordination didn't seem to help either.

"Wow, I don't know what to say."

"It's nothing. Seriously." He seemed unconvinced but dropped it. I continued, "I've got a list of employees at Cullen Corp whose background check raised a flag. I'm planning to interview them today. What lead are you working on?"

"I'm putting out feelers among some of my contacts to determine if anyone's heard anything about an attempt on Edward. I'm also investigating the big-wigs at each of the companies who were vying for the contract Edward's company won."

"Good idea. The two men from last night should be useful on that front as well. I'll be in touch when I get something new."

We finished up our impromptu meeting and said goodbye. I was glad to have another person, besides Mike, to bounce ideas off of. Jasper seemed to have great instincts.

Mike and I drove over to the Cullen Corp together. "Bella, are you sure you're okay? You've got a nasty-looking bruise on your face." Ugh, leave it to Mike to state the obvious.

"Yes, I'm fine!" I all but snapped at him.

"Look, I'm not trying to be obnoxious." _That's a first_, I thought as he continued, "But you went through a traumatic ordeal last night. I want to make sure you're not going to fall to pieces."

"Mike," I began as gently as I could while wanting to throttle him, "last night was not as traumatic as you might imagine. I've been through far worse, not to mention the years of training I've had for situations precisely like that one. So please, drop it. I'm _fine_, I promise." He understood what I meant. He knew what had happened in Forks as well as Jake did. But I wasn't the fragile little girl I used to be. Everything had changed—including me.

"Okay, well, let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

We drove in silence the rest of the way.

I approached my favorite receptionist after we had parked and gone inside. "Good morning, Agent Swan. What can I do for you?" If she noticed the gaping bruise I sported these days she didn't let on.

"Do you have a map of this building? I've got a few people I need to see today."

"No problem, here you go," she said, stretching her perfectly-manicured fingers across the desk. I cringed when I saw how shabby my own bruised hand looked in comparison.

"Thanks." The less interaction I had with her the better.

I only had to interview a handful of people but I felt drained. It wasn't even noon. _I should've gotten another cup of coffee. _

I worked my way through the list, interviewing one person after another. Mike inserted a question here and there but largely remained silent. His presence was pretty much useless. I wracked my brain to come up with a task he could perform here so that I would be free to interact with people alone.

I approached the secretary of the Accounting Department where we were currently working. She agreed to my request and found an office for Mike to use while I conducted interviews. He protested at first but I insisted that he check in with Mitch to see if anything new had come up. I also wanted him to review the case file up to this point. I thanked the stars that I had brought it with me.

_Finally, some peace!_, I thought as I worked through the list on my own.

I was just about to begin talking to people in the IT department. I had a map with names and office numbers on it so I didn't need to check in with the secretary on each floor. It surprised me when the secretary for the IT department called my name.

"Agent Swan?" I paused and turned. "Mr. Cullen discovered that you were in the building and has asked to speak to you immediately."

"Well, I've got some work to finish up here. Can it wait?"

"I'm afraid not, he was quite insistent."

"Fine," I almost yelled out of frustration before stopping myself. It wasn't this poor girl's fault that her boss was an ass.

I retreated to the elevator. The security guard was ogling my face. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just…your face. What happened to you?"

"I got into a fight with a man who wouldn't stop asking me inane questions." Beating the snot out of criminals was not as cathartic as one might imagine. Instead of being released, all of my pent-up rage seemed only to mushroom. I felt somewhat bad for being so rude but it had been a long few days.

That shut him up. We rode the rest of the way in silence.

"Nancy, I'm here to see Mr. Cullen," I sighed, "again."

She stuttered for a second, then buzzed him. "Mr. Cullen, Agent Swan is here."

"Send her in," the voice on the other end said. I couldn't decipher any emotion in his tone. I didn't know if he'd be Dr. Cullen or Mr. Hyde.

I approached his office for the third time in three days. It didn't get easier.

He surprised me by opening the door from within and gesturing for me to sit down. He followed me and took his customary position behind an expansive desk.

I sat, turning to face him, expecting the tirade to begin anew. Instead, he looked me up and down.

"What happened to your face?" he asked at last, seemingly aghast. Surely I didn't look _that_ hideous. Well, I guess compared to the supermodel female staff he had, I must appear pretty plain.

"You don't know? I'm surprised Jasper didn't tell you." Those were the only words I could choke out. He was looking at me so intently with an expression that almost seemed…_concerned._ My inexplicable attraction for the man flared as I added this new facial arrangement to the list. _Stop it! _I refused to like a man who was so impolite.

"No, Jasper only told me that it was urgent for me to speak to you today. He said that you were probably here."

"I have to interview some of your employees."

"Well…what happened?"

Ugh, I loathed telling the story over and over again. It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience and the constant reminder was tiring.

"Last night on my way home I was attacked by two men. They wanted me off your case."

"What? Are you okay?" He really did look concerned now. I couldn't imagine why. The amount of venom that usually laced his voice made it more than clear that I wasn't exactly his favorite person.

"I'm fine."

"Did they catch whomever did this to you?"

"No." He looked angry.

"I caught them." Surprise replaced anger.

"What? I don't understand."

"I – caught – them," I said slowly, enunciating each word like I was talking to a small child.

"But, how?"

"Look, Mr. Cullen, this isn't my first roll in the hay." Oops, bad choice of words. My mind did things to Mr. Cullen that were probably illegal in most states. "This isn't my first case," I amended. "And last night certainly wasn't the only time I've had to defend myself. I know that you think of me as young, but I'm older and more experienced than you give me credit for."

"Apparently so."

"Anyway, the two thugs who attacked me are sitting in a room somewhere, being interrogated as we speak. It's a good thing, really, that they were foolish enough to approach me. Now we have them. And, even if they don't speak, we should be able to pull up something in their records that will point us in the right direction."

He didn't look convinced. "I fail to see how anything that brings you harm can be considered good." His words stunned me, leaving me speechless. "How did you manage to capture them and only get hit once?" he wondered, continuing in the same uncomfortable line of questioning.

How to answer? I didn't want to lie but I also didn't want this man's pity. I decided I could risk his pity.

"I wasn't quite as lucky as you might think." There, that was evasive enough.

"What does that mean? Are you injured?" He seemed to be noticing my odd choice of clothing.

"It's nothing." I touched my jaw, unthinkingly. He noticed the movement and his eyes focused on my hands.

"Your hands…they're hurt too?" The scrapes that had seemed inconsequential last night were actually deeper than I had originally realized. Add them to the bone-crunching bruises I'd gotten from smacking the hard heads of those assholes and it hurt to touch anything today. The sprained fingers also made it hard to grasp objects. But the pain in my leg and neck overshadowed my hands.

"Look, I'm _fine_. Was there something else you needed?"

He ignored me, instead pushing the intercom button. "Nancy, can you get Carlisle on the line?"

"What are you doing?"

"I am going to have my personal physician take a look at you."

"No! That's completely unnecessary! I've already been examined!"

"It would appear that my life hinges on your ability to do your job. I want to make sure you're able to function at full capacity."

Now I was angry. I would be the one to judge if I was able to do my job or not.

"You look like a zombie. Clearly you're not able to judge for yourself if you're able to do your job." Damn him! It was like he could read my mind.

"I will not put up with this. Unless you have any other questions about your case, I'm leaving. I have work to do." I arose, heading for the door.

"No, wait, please don't go," he called after me. His eyes took on an impossibly vulnerable look. _What the hell. _I was the one who had been attacked. Well, I guess I wasn't the only one whose life had been put in peril recently. Somehow he must've known that I had a hard time saying no to someone who needed protection.

"Mr. Cullen, I am fine. And I really do have to get back to work." He didn't looked satiated. "Thank you for your concern," I added.

"Agent Swan? Before you go I want you to promise that you'll call me if you have any more trouble like last night. I have…resources not readily available to other people." I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that, but I found myself agreeing. He handed me a business card with his private line and personal cell phone number embossed elegantly across the satiny paper.

"Good afternoon, Agent Swan."

"Uh, good afternoon." His sudden shift from the raging asshole I'd met only a few days ago left me with a degree of whiplash.

I stepped out of his office, nearly colliding with Rosalie Hale.

"Rose!"

"Hey Bella, what's with the face?" she asked, pointing at my purpling bruise.

"Ugh, long story."

"I hope you got it slugging Cullen."

"I wish. How's it going?"

"Fine but I had to lay down a few ground rules. He didn't like the fact that an agent would be with him wherever he went."

"Ha, I imagine not."

"And he keeps insisting that I coordinate with his personal bodyguard, though I haven't met this person yet. Do you know anything about that?"

"No, I don't."

"He's a prick but he's not bad to look at," she winked. I didn't understand why but a sudden twinge of jealousy surged through my core. Rosalie was practically a goddess. None of the women here could compete with her, not even Nancy. I'd often wondered why she chose to be an agent. She could've walked runways in any European city. Her explanation about wanting to be taken seriously hadn't quite appeased me. But, it didn't matter to me—it'd been nice to have a female friend at work, until now.

"I guess not, I hadn't really noticed," I lied. Her gaping stare prompted me to add, "It's hard to notice someone's face when his mouth gets in the way."

She understood. Apparently Edward Cullen had made his mark on Rose as well. She probably had put him in his place better than I could. The fact that she wasn't nearly a foot shorter than he was surely helped.

"Oh, I meant to ask why Mitch has me sleeping at your place tonight after I get off." I guess Rosalie would be better company than most of the other field agents I knew—and, she was much more preferred than Mike.

"It has to do with what happened last night. I'll explain it to you later." She nodded and moved toward Cullen's office.

"Alrighty, see you then."

"Bye." At least I knew that she wouldn't be getting it on with Edward Cullen tonight. _Where had that thought come from?_ I needed to rein my mind in, pronto. I had no claim over him. I could barely stand the man. And, yet, I was drawn to him. It didn't help that he had actually been decent to me today, at least by his standards.

The rest of the day dragged. I was running on no sleep and about a gallon of joe. I couldn't wait to sink into the warm haven of my bed. And, tomorrow was Saturday. I didn't have to go into work at all if I didn't want to. But, knowing myself, I probably would.

Finally, having finished my round of interviews, I made it back to the office with Mike tagging along. Though I'd never had a family dog before, I imagined it wouldn't be a far cry from Mike's behavior—though Mike was hornier than most pets I'd met.

I finished reviewing the statements I'd gotten from Cullen Corp's employees. Nothing unusual jumped out at me and I was no closer to figuring out where the intruders had gotten a security card.

I decided it was time to go home. I had almost escaped before I heard Mitch call down the hall after me. "Bella, just where do you think you're going?"

_Crap_. "Home?" I played dumb.

"Without company?"

"Oh, right," I said, in an overly exaggerated tone. Mitch didn't buy it.

"Things would be easier if I could get a little cooperation from you."

"Fine. Who's the unlucky soul?"

"Mike volunteered to watch you until Rose gets off."

_Of course he did. _Like I need a babysitter. My thought reminded me of Cullen's insistence on not needing a babysitter either. I almost forgot Mitch was waiting for a response. Right.

"Okay, I'll go get him." Not Cullen…Mike! I had to go get Mike! I really was losing it. Maybe the blow to my head was worse than I had originally thought.

"One more thing, Agent Swan. I don't want to hear that you came into the office at all this weekend. I'll have security keep you out if necessary. You need some time off."

"Uh, okay."

"Have a good weekend Bella."

"Thanks Mitch, you too."

I knocked on Mike's door and we headed out. He was more talkative than usual and it rubbed me the wrong way. I tried to ignore him and focus on the sway of the crowded metro car. Part of the reason I didn't mind staying late so often was to avoid the chaos of DC's home-bound commuters.

Finally it was my stop. We forced our way through the sea of bodies to the doors and barely made it out before they closed behind us. "Hey Mike, how are you going to get home?" I wondered, suddenly. I thought he usually drove to work.

"I'll just catch the metro back and grab my car," was his simple reply. I felt an unexpected surge of gratitude. He was being a good buddy and I was treating him like a dog. Literally.

"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate your willingness to help." I instantly regretted the words. He perked up like I'd given him a treat. I tried not to laugh as I imagined scratching behind his ears.

"Sure Bella."

We found my car in the lot and drove in blessed silence for the few minutes it took to get to my place. I fumbled with the key for a moment, finally opening the front door. Mike insisted on going in first, gun drawn, to make sure no one had broken in.

"Clear!" he all but shouted.

"Thanks," I grunted, obviously not impressed with his manly display of weaponry.

"No prob. So what's for dinner?"

Oh great, now he expected me to cook for him too? Usually I didn't mind whipping something together. But, after the events of the past 24 hours, I was beat.

"I've got some frozen stuff or we could just order pizza."

"Pizza it is," he said, wrinkling his nose at the idea of Hot Pockets. "Got any beer?"

"Yeah, bottom shelf in the fridge. Can you get me one too?"

"Nice," he said appreciatively, popping open a Hoegaarden. Jake had gotten me into beer during college, though he refused to drink anything classier than Coors. I, on the hand, had taken to European beers.

"Thanks. I prefer Belgian." I clutched the bottle, letting its cold temperature soothe my hands.

"Me too, though I'm usually too cheap to spring for the good stuff."

We chatted amiably about beer for a few minutes, then started going over some of the case details again. It always helped to have another person catch details that I might miss.

Rosalie showed up a few hours later and Mike called it a night. Rose was better company than Mike not in small part because I didn't have to worry about her coming on to me all the time.

I rehashed the events of last night and we drank a few more beers. She was impressed with my self-defense skills, though she itched to be in on the action. Her love of violence rivaled Jake's. Finally, when I could barely stand from exhaustion, I headed off to bed.

_Edward_

Her presence had the same effect it always did on me, anger mingled with lust. I tried to be reasonable but to no avail.

I was about to light into her again when I noticed a dark bruise simmering beneath the surface of her porcelain skin. _What the hell had happened to her?_

"What happened to your face?" I asked. Whoever had done this to her would pay, and dearly. I was surprised at the rage that quickly filled me at the thought of any harm coming to her.

"You don't know? I'm surprised Jasper didn't tell you," she replied, far too nonchalantly for my liking. No, Jasper hadn't told me. And he would hear from me about that.

"No, Jasper only told me that it was urgent for me to speak to you today. He said that you were probably here."

"I have to interview some of your employees."

"Well…what happened?" Was she trying to drive me insane? The expression on the uninjured part of her face told me she didn't want to repeat a story that she'd likely told over and over today.

"Last night on my way home I was attacked by two men. They wanted me off your case." _WHAT?! _My mind exploded. _She was attacked because of me?_ Apparently I wasn't the only one who wanted her off my case. But not like this—no, never like this. I could barely stay seated behind my desk. Every square inch of my being ached to reach out and stroke her face (well the good side at least), to comfort her. I also longed to protect her from anyone and everything that would hurt her.

"What? Are you okay?" I tried to contain my concern but I was sure she could see right through me. I was probably confusing her to no end. She must think I was a cold bastard.

"I'm fine." Hmm, this was something new. She was brave.

"Did they catch whomever did this to you?

"No." Of all the incompetent idiots at the FBI—they can't even catch simple thugs! I would have to yell at her boss some more. This was simply unacceptable.

"I caught them." Surprise edged out anger. _She caught them? _I didn't understand. How could someone so young, so frail, so _small_ apprehend two criminals by herself?

"What? I don't understand."

"I – caught – them," she said slowly, enunciating each word like I was a small child.

"But, how?" I really couldn't picture it. The idea of her causing violence was absurd. I nearly laughed out loud at the thought of a kitten defending itself against a rabid wolf but that would've been inappropriate.

"Look, Mr. Cullen, this isn't my first roll in the hay." Interesting choice of words. I wonder what she'd do if she knew how aroused I had suddenly gotten. It was odd to feel lust and compassion coursing through me at the same time. "This isn't my first case," she amended. "And last night certainly wasn't the only time I've had to defend myself. I know that you think of me as young, but I'm older and more experienced than you give me credit for." That was certainly cryptic. _She'd had to defend herself before? _What did she mean? She wasn't a field agent. Maybe she meant during training?

"Apparently so," I said quickly. I didn't want her pick up on my thoughts. Yes, apparently she was _much_ better at her job than I had originally thought.

"Anyway, the two thugs who attacked me are sitting in a room somewhere, being interrogated as we speak. It's a good thing, really, that they were foolish enough to approach me. Now we have them. And, even if they don't speak, we should be able to pull up something in their records that will point us in the right direction."

How could she think that her injury was a good thing? "I fail to see how anything that brings you harm can be considered good." She must be a skilled fighter if she had come away relatively unscathed. "How did you manage to capture them and only get hit once?" I wondered out loud, instantly regretting it when I saw the conflict on her face. Clearly she hadn't gotten out of her conflict with only one punch to the face. I wondered if she'd answer me truthfully or not.

"I wasn't quite as lucky as you might think." Of course not. I was a fool--she must've been hurt in places covered by clothing. I wanted to know the extent of her injuries. But seeing what was under her clothes would likely create more problems than it would solve.

"What does that mean? Are you injured?" I asked, trying to tease the answer out of her. I noticed her turtleneck for the first time. I didn't think that was her normal attire. My fantasies had definitely involved collarbones at one point—those same collarbones were tucked behind her prudish top. She must be hiding another bruise, or worse. That thought bothered me more than I cared to admit.

"It's nothing." She touched her jaw, and I saw her hands. Deep scrapes ran along her wrists up to her fingers, intermingled with bruises.

"Your hands…they're hurt too?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Look, I'm _fine_. Was there something else you needed?"

I ignored her, pushing the intercom. It was obvious that she hadn't gotten proper medical attention. My father could help with that. "Nancy, can you get Carlisle on the line?"

"What are you doing?"

"I am going to have my personal physician take a look at you."

"No! That's completely unnecessary! I've already been examined!" Of course she had, probably by a medic who made less per hour than my janitor. Why was she so resistant to help? Ah…I added another quality to the list: Bella was independent. Maybe I could guilt her into taking my assistance.

"It would appear that my life hinges on your ability to do your job. I want to make sure you're able to function at full capacity." I continued, ignoring the dark look twisting her features. "You look like a zombie. Clearly you're not able to judge for yourself if you're able to do your job."

I stopped my speech as she glared at me. Uh-oh, she was pissed. Maybe I should've held my tongue after all.

"I will not put up with this. Unless you have any other questions about your case, I'm leaving. I have work to do." The chill in her voice was more intimidating than if she had screamed at the top of her lungs. I could suddenly picture her more violent side. She got up and starting head for the exit.

"No, wait, please don't go." I was desperate to act cordially toward her. Maybe I could change her initial impression of me. I put on my best defenseless look. I thought it might work—she was a public defender, after all.

Thankfully she had calmed a bit. "Mr. Cullen, I am fine. And I really do have to get back to work." _Not good enough, Agent Swan._

"Thank you for your concern," she added.

"Agent Swan? Before you go I want you to promise that you'll call me if you have any more trouble like last night. I have…resources not readily available to other people." I could have a dozen armed men at her side in ten minutes flat.

Putting Bella in danger on my account didn't sit well with me. I'd have to redouble my efforts to get her removed. Or, I could force her to keep one of my personal bodyguards with her at all times. That idea cheered me, partly due to the visual image of her reaction. I almost grinned, but that would've confirmed in her mind that I was the world's biggest asshole.

I swiftly recovered and handed her my personal business card, reserved for family and close friends, before bidding her farewell. "Good afternoon, Agent Swan." Better let her go before I have any more inappropriate thoughts in her company. I would save those fantasies for later tonight.

"Uh, good afternoon." I watched as she left, hungering for her more now than ever.


	4. Conversations

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and favorited this story! 

A big shout-out to patsyrobinson for being a super-awesome, wonderful and incredibly helpful beta! Seriously, she rocks – this story wouldn't be half what it is without her!! Be sure to check out her story A Long Time Coming…it's a fantastic read, you won't be disappointed!

As always, everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I just toy with her characters for my own sick and twisted reasons.

One final note, I have started a thread over at Twilighted's forums. A teaser for Chapter 5 is up over there, so if you're into that type of thing come join the party!

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_Bella_

I woke up, stunned momentarily by sleep, and glanced at my alarm clock. _12:33 pm. _I could hardly believe it was past noon. It had been years since I'd slept in so late.

I stumbled to the bathroom, nearly tackling Rosalie as she came around the corner.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she taunted, playfully.

"Rose, just one sec." The beers and coffee from yesterday seemed to be waging war in my bladder. A few minutes later I went to the kitchen, hoping some more caffeine might kick-start my sluggish brain.

Rose was there, sipping coffee herself.

"Thanks for staying with me last night. I'm glad it was you and not Mike." I grimaced, and she laughed easily.

"There's no way I'd leave you with that lapdog." I laughed at her expression. Apparently I wasn't the only one Mike had tried to charm. I could only imagine what Rosalie had done to keep him away from her. I never really thought about it much until now, but Mike _did_ keep a pretty far distance from Rose. She must have scared him shitless. That thought cheered me.

"I got a call from Cullen today. He said there's some more info he wants to review with you. Are you free tonight?" The look in her eyes said more than her words. I wonder what type of conversation she'd had with Edward Cullen.

"Uh, I guess so. Mitch made me promise not to work on the case though."

"Cullen doesn't want to meet at his office. He wants to meet us at Citronelle."

"Citronelle? Why does that sound familiar?" I thought I'd heard of the place before, but I was usually so absorbed with work that insignificant details slipped through the cracks.

"Maybe 'cause it's only the hottest restaurant in town right now. The waiting list for a reservation is insane."

"Oh, I wonder why he wants to meet there instead of his office?"

"Hmm, I wonder too," she said, far too suggestively for my taste.

"Rosalie Hale, this is_ not_ a date!"

"Well, it certainly won't be if you're planning to wear that," she retorted, pointing at my sweats.

"Oh crap. I don't have the slightest idea what to wear!" I moaned.

"I can help with that." She flipped open her phone. I waited, wondering who could possibly help me out of this jam before feeling foolish at the second word out of her mouth.

"Hey, Alice, it's Rose. Look, Bella has a hot date tonight and nothing to wear. Can you help a girl out?" I could hear the shrieking from the other end. Alice would be pleased to no end to clothe me. _Ugh._ I hated playing dress-up.

I mentally chastised myself for ever introducing Rosalie and Alice in the first place. They had gotten along far better than I ever imagined possible. They even hung out together without me from time to time, mostly when I wasn't available.

Rose snapped her phone shut. "Alice will be over around six. What do you want to do in the meantime?"

"Well, do you need to go home?" I wondered.

"At some point."

"Don't you have to get back over and watch Cullen again? I thought you were the agent on duty."

"Actually, no. I got a call this morning while someone was still snoozing," she paused, rolling her eyes playfully at me. "Cullen managed to convince Mitch that his guy would do a better job of protecting him. I think Mitch was just happy to pull the protective detail so he wouldn't have to talk to Cullen as much." She grinned, wickedly. She could be a truly intimidating person. But, for some reason, I wasn't scared.

"In that case, let's do something," I begged, "or else I'll go crazy just sitting here."

"Mitch said you couldn't go into the _office_ today, but did he say anything about the gym?" I'd already filled Rose in on everything that had happened with the case up to this point so she knew that I was prohibited from working.

I caught on immediately. "No, he did not." This was probably stupid considering the aches I felt when I moved even an inch. But I was desperate for a distraction—and even one involving exercise would help.

We skipped breakfast—well lunch really—and headed to the gym housed within the J. Edgar Hoover Building. Every piece of exercise equipment imaginable was available in triplicate. Dozens of treadmills and exercise bikes lined the back walls. Rosalie hopped onto an elliptical trainer and began right away.

I eased into jogging on a treadmill. It'd been a little while. I decided to do 7 miles, keeping up a slow pace of about 8 minutes a mile. An hour later I was done. My leg throbbed a bit, but I ignored it. At least I hadn't sustained an injury to any joints.

We lifted weights together, silently. She had her iPod blaring in her ear, no doubt something aggressive. I preferred to listen to classical music when I lifted; I found it soothing. My hands were aching by the time I was done clutching the bar. Maybe weights hadn't been such a great idea.

Rosalie wanted to cool off a bit so we swam a few laps. The water felt good. She gasped a little when she saw my stitched up leg. I thought that was odd because she hadn't winced at all when she saw my bruised neck.

"Dude, they really got you, didn't they?"

"It's not so bad. Believe me, they look far worse than I do," I smirked.

"You rock, Bella."

"I know."

Our playful ribbing continued on the way home. We stopped at Rosalie's place so that she could grab a dress and some makeup. I wondered aloud where she'd hide her gun when I saw the skimpy red number she planned to wear tonight.

"Easy, thigh-holster," she winked. "I'll be carrying my own compact 9mm."

Great. I hoped Alice wasn't expecting me to fit into something so…revealing. She had to know me better than that.

Apparently she didn't. I all but gasped when she pulled out a black dress that had to be smaller than Rosalie's. "Alice, I am_ not_ wearing this!"

"Oh, come on, Bella!"

"No, absolutely not." Normally my argument would've been met with much resistance; Alice was very persistent. But when I showed her my scraped knees and the slash on my leg, she acquiesced, albeit grudgingly. Apparently bodily injury didn't hamper Alice's enthusiasm for fashion.

"You're such a spoil-sport," she grumbled, pulling a more reasonable dress from her bag. She me knew so well.

"Much better." I tried it on, grateful that its length more than covered my knees and the stitches on my leg. It was also long enough to allow me to strap my government-issued Glock to my thigh.

"Kill-joy," she glared at me murderously.

"I need somewhere to keep my gun. Mine's not as small as Rose's."

She wasn't convinced. "Why don't you try your purse?"

"Alice, I need to keep it on me at all times. Besides, this is not a date. I'm meeting Cullen to discuss his case. That's it. And, the last thing I need is for him to see how badly those guys banged me up. He already thinks I'm incompetent."

"It never hurts to look good," she muttered. Her sour mood was short-lived once she got me into the bathroom. She spent hours buffing, painting and dusting my face with a huge assortment of products. She was careful not to aggravate my bruises. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much goop on my face. Yes I could—it was when I was posing as a prostitute to bring down an international arms-dealer. _Great._

"There! All done," she announced. The proud grin on her face really was heart-warming. I looked at myself in the mirror. _Not bad._ At least I didn't look like a hooker. My hair was pulled back tastefully. Warm shades of shadow accentuated my eyes. Soft lipstick and perfectly matched gloss plumped and highlighted my lips. My skin looked creamy with just a hint of rosy color. And, she'd done a phenomenal job of hiding the ugly purple-green that fanned across my jaw. The bruise on my neck was also skillfully concealed. She'd also given me a silky hand-balm that did wonders for my tattered hands and a pair of elegant gloves to conceal them.

She insisted that I wear jewelry, pulling out vintage earrings and a matching necklace. I had to give her credit, they did pair nicely with the black dress. Its v-neck revealed just a hint of cleavage, though the push-up bra Alice all but forced me into fabricated a bosom-size that was not realistic. Matching flats completed a beautiful ensemble.

"Alice, thank you. You did a wonderful job." She beamed at my praise.

"Wow, Swan, I didn't know you could clean up so nicely," Rosalie said. She had finished applying her own makeup in record time. She looked fabulous, like a movie star going to the premiere of her first mega-hit flick. I definitely paled in comparison, and not just because the shade of my skin was so much lighter. Rose was a definite hit to my self-esteem. But, I had never put much stock in my looks, so my ego wasn't bruised for long.

I glanced at the clock as we finished grabbing the necessities for our evening, not least of which were our guns. Rose carefully strapped her weapon to the inside of her thigh. I tossed an extra gun from my own collection into my purse for good measure, fingering the one already strapped to my thigh.

"Rose, we have to go. It's almost 8:45!"

"Chill, Bella, we'll make it with time to spare—as long as I drive." Rosalie enjoyed speed more than anyone I knew, aside from Alice. She used her status as an FBI agent frequently to get out of speeding tickets. When that didn't work her beauty usually did.

We hopped into her red convertible. It was more than flashy—the word ostentatious came to mind. But, it did the trick. We were at Citronelle less than eight minutes later. She had cut a fifteen-minute trip nearly in half, terrifying me in the process.

"You know, Rose," I said, "your driving was scarier than the men who assaulted me!"

"Pssh!" she blew my words off with a flick of her wrist. She knew I was teasing…sort of.

She eased out of the car and handed her keys to the valet. As we stepped inside the restaurant I was overwhelmed by the rich colors of its décor. Warm shades of amber, caramel and cinnamon soothed my senses. Saliva pooled in my mouth at the decadent smells. I hadn't realized how hungry I was truly was.

"Cullen," Rosalie told the hostess.

"Right this way, please." We wove through tables filled with guests enjoying food and conversation. I spied an empty table in the back and assumed we'd be heading there. Instead, the hostess took us to a private room.

Cullen and one other person were there—though I barely noticed. Edward Cullen was beyond ravishing in his designer suit. I was suddenly grateful for Alice's efforts earlier this afternoon and almost regretted choosing the less-sexy dress. Almost.

Mr. Cullen and his friend rose as we approached. "Good evening, ladies. I hope you don't mind, Agent Hale, but I took the liberty of arranging a private table for you and my bodyguard, Emmett McCarty. Agent Swan and I need to discuss the details of the case alone."

"We do?" I said, dumbly.

"Yes," he replied, positively smoldering at me from beneath his lashes. Forming coherent thoughts was going to be hard—of this I was certain.

"No prob, Cullen." Rosalie looked positively giddy. _That's odd_, I thought, until I finally noticed Mr. Cullen's companion. His face was nearly as stunning as Cullen's, but his body was what I knew lured Rosalie. She had always had a thing for well-muscled men, and to say that Emmett was well-muscled was the understatement of the century. He was ripped, muscles bulging from beneath his suit. I was sure Rosalie would get along just fine with Emmett.

Mr. Cullen held my chair, sliding it underneath me as I sat down. Wow, he was really being a gentleman for once.

"How are you tonight, Bella? May I call you Bella?" he wondered._ Yes, you can call me anything you want as long as you keep staring at me with those big, beautiful eyes. Stop it! Focus!_

"Uh…S-Sure," the word tumbled from me. _Way to go, Bella._

"Great. Pleaes call me Edward." If he noticed my discomfort he didn't let on.

"Okay," _gulp_, "Edward." I let the name roll off my tongue. It felt nice, intimate.

"Would you care for a glass of red?" He poured as he asked.

"Yes, thank you."

"So, Bella, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" His odd expression brought me back down to earth. _Duh! _ _He's asking about the raging bruise on your face, dummy! _Well, a bruise he could no longer see thanks to Alice's handiwork.

"Oh, uh, I'm fine. Much better than yesterday."

"And why is that?"

"I finally caught up on my sleep," I grinned, sheepishly.

"Sleep is always good." I appreciated his effort to keep the conversation light.

"How about you?" I asked.

"What?"

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, why do you ask?" he echoed my recent question verbatim, chuckling.

"Well, it wasn't too long ago that you were almost a victim yourself," I reminded.

"That was nothing," he said defensively, harshly, like somehow I'd maimed his manhood with my simple reminder. I knew he'd revert to the Mr. Cullen I'd met not so long ago.

"Just checking," I all but whispered, embarrassed that I had thought this dinner might be a chance to get to know Edward Cullen. I felt oddly exposed, defenseless tonight. Maybe it was the dress, or the new tenor of our conversation. His actions didn't anger me, for once; they confuddled me. The long seconds stretched into minutes until he spoke again.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, "I promised myself I'd be a gentleman tonight. That wasn't very nice. I'm fine, just frustrated at the situation. Honestly, I'm used to death threats. They come with the territory. Though no one's actually gotten as close as they did a few days ago, I've had precautions in place for years for just this type of scenario."

I nodded.

"But enough about me. Tell me about yourself." He wanted to talk about me? Why? I really didn't feel like prattling on and on about myself.

"What would you like to know?"

"Well, for starters, why did you decide to become an FBI agent?" People always thought that question was easy to answer. But it wasn't. I couldn't stop the pain that was always simmering beneath the surface from boiling over.

"I prefer not to talk about that." Surprise flickered across his face, but he let it drop. Maybe he saw the conflicted emotions in my expression.

"Okay, how about this one. What did you study in college?"

"I can do that one," I smiled tentatively. I wasn't about to incinerate the olive branch he'd so recently extended. I appreciated his effort to be more personable. "I studied English literature, with a minor in Italian." He seemed surprised, like he expected that I had studied criminal justice. In fact, I almost had. But the FBI likes well-rounded agents who are fluent in at least one language. So I figured I'd study what interested me. And, with a name like Bella, Italian wasn't a hard choice to make when deciding what foreign language to study. Recent terrorist activity in Italy made Italian a sought-after language in the Bureau, so it was a win-win.

"Com'è il vino?" he asked, as if testing me. His pronunciation and inflection were flawless, but I didn't want to play along. I was too drained, physically and emotionally, to break out the Italian full-force tonight.

"_Bene_, though I'm not usually a huge fan of French wines," I replied.

He seemed to get a kick out of my response. "I'll keep that in mind," he said cryptically.

The waitress came to take our order then. I hadn't even looked at the menu. Then I realized there _was_ no menu. "Uh, I'll just have whatever you're getting," I told Edward, somewhat sheepishly.

"Two orders of filet mignon, please. And, let's go for the 1990 Cascina Francia." That sounded suspiciously like a bottle of Italian red—and an expensive one at that.

"So, English, huh? That's a far cry from caging criminals in back-alleys," he pressed, obviously curious about my career choice.

"Well, it wasn't my original goal. I always wanted to be an English teacher," I admitted. He seemed amused.

"I can't see you as a teacher." He looked at me for a moment, evaluating the person behind the badge. I didn't let his perusal go on for long.

"Why did you study Biology in college?"

"I was hell-bent on becoming a doctor like my father." He didn't seem surprised that I knew about his background.

"Really? What changed your mind?"

"I took a summer internship with Northrop Grumman in between my junior and senior years of college. I fell in love with the work they do and wanted to get involved."

"How did you come to run your own defense contracting firm?"

"I realized that I could operate more efficiently and reduce the cost of production. A lot of contractors milk the government for as much as they can get. I prefer to make a modest profit and handle business matters fairly. There's no need for taxpayers to shoulder more of the defense budget than necessary." That was surprisingly patriotic of him. "It's been that obligation to fairness that has grown my company from a meager start-up to the largest defense contractor in the country."

I didn't know what to say, so he continued. "For instance, Bella, I'll bet anything you've got a Glock 22 strapped to your thigh right now, correct?" Damn, he was good. My face flushed suddenly when I realized that he was thinking about what was between my legs. I hoped he didn't notice the extra color in my face, if it was even showing through the layers of makeup Alice had all but forced upon me.

"Yes, that's correct," I answered, working hard to keep my voice even. The last thing I wanted was for him to get the notion that I was the least bit impressed by him, let alone attracted to him.

"If the latest deal goes through, my company will be replacing all government-issued firearms with a lighter but sturdier model. Uncle Sam will save millions and we'll make a tidy profit as well."

"I wouldn't like a lighter gun. The weight of my Glock helps it shoot straighter."

"Ah, but that's the beauty of our newest firearm. It's a 9mm but it doesn't have the same kickback as Glocks. My gun shoots straighter and more accurately than any other weapon on the market."

"Interesting. I'd love to test-drive your new model." I blushed as I thought about other parts of Edward that I wanted to test-drive.

"Done. How does tomorrow work for you?" His eagerness to show me his work was endearing but surprising. I wasn't sure what had changed between us, but he was actually being _pleasant_.

I was so surprised that I stupidly said the first thing that came to mind. "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?"

It was his turn to be caught off guard. He paused, obviously trying to formulate a response to my question. Finally, he answered me. "I decided it was too much work to stay away from you."

That was cryptic. "What exactly does that mean?"

He seemed slightly embarrassed, like I had somehow asked him precisely the question he didn't want to answer. But, he did. "I realized that we'd be around each other for as long as it takes you to solve this case. I think it's best if we have a working relationship, don't you?" I paused, my mind fumbling over the word "relationship."

"Yes. But," I wondered, "does this mean you'll stop trying to get me removed?"

"For now," he grinned, though I wasn't sure if he was joking or serious.

"Thanks." I think.

He jumped back to our previous train of conversation. "It's settled, then. So, what time works for you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes—shooting?"

"Oh, ten? As long as Rose doesn't have any objections. She'll likely be my babysitter tomorrow as well."

"Ten it is," he said. "I'm glad, you know, that they're having someone watch you."

"You weren't so happy when the tables were reversed, were you?"

"No, you're right. But I have a certain degree of security in my office and home. Adding another person to the mix is superfluous. I would wager that you, on the other hand, don't have the world's most state-of-the-art security system or armored vehicles at your disposal. Am I right?"

"I can take care of myself." This conversation was becoming uncomfortable.

"You've more than proved yourself, Bella. But why take any unnecessary risks?"

I decided to dodge this line of conversation. "Speaking of risks, are you ready to talk about your case? I mean, I thought that was the reason we were meeting tonight." He grinned like a schoolboy at my words.

"Actually, no, I'm not quite done asking you about yourself. Where are you from?" Oh great. That last thing I wanted to do was talk about myself more. He stared at me, expecting an answer.

"Well, I'm really from two places. I spent a lot of my childhood with my mother in Phoenix. When I was in high school I moved to live with my dad in a small town about three hours from Seattle."

"And are your parents still in Arizona and Washington?"

"No, my mother lives in Florida now and my father has passed."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." And he did look genuinely sorry.

"So was I."

Silence invaded our conversation for a few moments. It was awkward. I hadn't wanted to talk about Charlie. It brought back too many painful memories.

"Bella, are you alright?" Edward asked, gently. He was staring at me. Those few moments must have been more like minutes.

"I'm fine. I just…it's hard…thinking about Charlie is hard."

"I understand. It was inconsiderate of me to ask."

"No, no. It's okay, you had no way of knowing." I paused, gathering my errant thoughts and banishing them. "How about you? Where are you parents?"

"They live in DC, actually. We are originally from Chicago, but when I moved to attend school on the East coast, they followed." That was interesting. I could never imagine Renee moving to be closer to me. She was always so wrapped up in her own life.

"Sounds like you are close."

"We are. Carlisle and Esme are just wonderful." Of course he'd have a model family life. What about him wasn't perfect? The name Carlisle stuck out.

"Carlisle? Wasn't that the doctor you wanted me to see?"

"Yes, my father is a doctor…one of DC's best. And my mother is an architect." His parents' occupations gave a few clues about the way Edward carried himself. He was confident, intelligent. He was a product of his breeding, which was obviously exemplary.

Dinner arrived just then, interrupting the flow of our exchange. The meal was scrumptious and the new bottle of red was beyond amazing. He certainly knew how to pick his wines.

We shifted to discussing the case. There really hadn't been much progress. Nothing had turned up so far in the background checks of the two men I had apprehended. The photo David was working on only revealed the two men who were sitting in FBI custody, so that had been a dead end as well. Edward didn't have any more of an idea of who might be responsible than I did.

We ended the evening at around midnight. I was surprised it had gotten that late.

"Well, Edward, I need to get going. It's rather late." He stood when I did. "Thank you for a lovely evening." I meant it—I did have a lovely evening with him. He surprised me by carefully grasping my gloved hand and placing a gentle kiss on it. His eyes glowed as they reached my own, effectively liquefying my insides. His scent assailed me, nearly finishing the job started by those two thugs. He was beyond incredible.

"Believe me, Bella, the pleasure was _all_ mine." I knew I shouldn't succumb to his charms; heaven only knows how many other women he'd bewitched with them before. But I couldn't help it. This man was more intoxicating than a thousand bottles of the world's best wine. And I couldn't seem to drink enough of him.

After stammering some nonsensical reply, I caught Rose's eye. We _had_ to get out of there!

If I thought I might get some peace on the way back, I was wrong. Rosalie was raving about Emmett. "He was so hot! I can't believe how much muscle that man has. And he was so charming. I could simply eat him up!" I put up with that for the fifteen minutes it took us to get back to my place. Apparently Rosalie's obsession with Emmett slowed her driving considerably.

"We're meeting Edward tomorrow morning at ten so he can show me his newest firearm."

That stopped her cold. "So, I'll get to see Emmett then?"

"Most likely."

"Sweet!"

"I'm going to hit the hay," I said, when we finally made it inside the door. I really didn't want to keep hearing how _hot_ Emmett was. "Goodnight, Rose."

"Night, Swan."

---

_Edward_

After bidding Bella goodnight, Emmett and I went back to my DC loft. It was a bit excessive to have two homes, but I wanted the option to be either downtown with all the action or far way in the confines of my large colonial house outside the city. Since the loft was closest to Citronelle, we went there. I generally preferred the loft anyway.

I paused outside my impenetrable door, allowing the palm scanner to recognize my unique print. It greeted me as I punched in the 6-digit access code. Finally, I inserted my key directly into the slot on the keypad and twisted. The metal door receded into its frame long enough for me and Emmett to slip past. With the push of a button, it snapped shut. I doubted if a small army could break into my apartment.

I looked around, surveying my bachelor pad. Steel, reinforced walls ran around the interior. Floor-to-ceiling bulletproof windows, lidded with heavy curtains, furnished a fantastic view of the city. A panic button glowed in every room, including the bathrooms. A few guns and other weapons were strategically placed in various corners. I really wasn't paranoid…too much.

Emmett had spent countless nights here, even when in an unofficial capacity, since he moved to DC four years ago. He was my best and oldest friend. We had grown up together in Chicago. He joined the military straight out of high school but we kept in touch. After 10 years as a Navy Seal, he was honorably discharged and transitioned to the private sector. I'd snapped him up immediately. A man with his knowledge and skill set was an invaluable asset to my firm. Not to mention the fact that it was great to work with a buddy. It was a bit ironic that I'd take a bullet to save his life, considering the fact that he was technically my "bodyguard." Agent Scott didn't need to know that Emmett was more for show than actual functionality. I would never put him in danger.

My mind replayed the last few hours as I got ready for bed. Bella had stripped the air right from my lungs when she entered the room wearing a simple but tasteful black dress. It had twisted flatteringly around her figure, cradling her bosom. I caught a few glimpses of her shapely legs. She worked out, but not to excess. I loved women who took physical fitness seriously.

I was relieved that she didn't have any other visible scrapes or bruises. She had done a remarkable job covering up the bruise on her face and her gloved hands hid all traces of damage. Maybe I had been a little too aggressive in trying to force Carlisle on her after all.

I had almost declared my affection for her on the spot, but somehow managed to contain myself. She was mesmerizing yet puzzling. I couldn't figure out why it was be so difficult for her to articulate her reasons for becoming an agent. Usually people spout off typical drivel for joining the public sector: devotion to country, desire to see evil abolished, really good health care. But Bella was different. It seemed that her decision to enter law enforcement was deeply personal, painful even. I could still have Jasper dig up her past like I originally planned, but now it felt too intrusive to do so. I wanted Bella to trust me enough to tell me herself.

That night I fell asleep that night to images of a brown-haired goddess smiling at me as we danced together.

---

_Bella_

Sunday dawned brightly and cheerfully, pulling me from sleep sooner than I would've liked. I hopped in the shower before Rosalie could commandeer it for her morning ritual. She was nearly as bad as Alice when it came to cosmetics.

I brewed some coffee and caught up on the week's events. After reading the paper for nearly an hour, I decided to call Alice. She would want to know the gory details. I repeated, nearly word-for-word, my conversation with Edward, punctuated now and then by her shrieks. "Bella! He sounds so _dreamy! _And perfect for you!" On and on it went until Rose finally emerged and I bid Alice goodbye.

Rose wolfed down a bagel and two cups of coffee before even speaking to me. Finally, she said good morning to me in her own style. "So, Swan, all set?" She was all business.

"Yup." So was I.

It was just after nine-thirty. We made it the Cullen Corp by ten and were greeted by the weekend receptionist. She seemed nicer than her weekday counterpart.

Instead of meeting Edward in his office, he and Emmett came down. Edward ushered us to the elevators, dismissed the security guard, and inserted a key into a slot on the same panel as the buttons. We lurched downward.

The doors opened up to a small room. Row upon row of guns rested behind glass, itching to be used. Edward went to a case that had an impressive-looking lock on it. He punched some numbers into the keypad and retrieved a few handguns. He handed one to me and one to Rose. Emmett had already snagged a large rifle. Rosalie smirked at him and he grinned from ear to ear. There was definitely something going on between those two.

Edward chose a larger version of the gun he had handed to me. We each donned protective glasses and noise-canceling headphones. No one else was on the range. I wasn't sure if this was Edward's personal range or one used by Cullen Corp. employees. Whatever the case, it was nice to have some privacy.

I loaded fifteen rounds into the magazine and cocked the gun. When I'd originally learned to shoot the kickback had been almost more than I could handle. I would grimace every time I fired a shot, seriously impairing my aim. I'd finally gotten used to the heavy gun that was standard-issue for government agents, but it had taken weeks of practice.

I emptied the first clip as I marveled at the smooth machine in my grip. It was a beautiful weapon, all things considered. Edward was right; it fired like a beauty. There was a definite kickback, but it wasn't anything near my Glock. I was in love.

I turned to find Edward staring at me. I couldn't read the expression on his face. "Do you like it?" he shouted above Emmett and Rosalie's shots.

"Yes! It's great!"

Rose and Emmett had finished firing. Edward took off his headphones and tapped Rosalie and Emmett. "Anyone care for a little wager?"

A wager. I knew where this was headed. I'd always been a good shot, but nothing impressive. "What sort of wager did you have in mind," I asked.

"If Emmett and I get more shots through the center of that target fifty meters back then I get to take you out to dinner again," he said. I was stunned. Why would he want to take me back out to dinner? We had exhausted discussing the case.

"And if you lose?"

"If they lose," Rose interrupted, "we get to decide how to spend the rest of today. You boys will be at our beck and call." Emmett ate her words up and Rosalie ignored my glare. This was not my idea of a good bet. If I had to spend a whole day alone with Edward I wasn't sure if I could contain my animalistic attraction to him, or refrain from punching him.

"Deal," Edward confirmed. "Ladies first?"

Rose, ever the confident one, stepped up. She was an excellent markswoman, a small part of her qualifications as a field agent. She landed eight out of ten, a great score by any standard especially considering the fact that she was using a gun foreign to her. But she was pissed, fully expecting to nail a perfect ten out of ten.

Emmett went next for the guys' team. He nailed nine out of ten. The murderous glare Rosalie directed at him would've intimidated a man bigger than Emmett. But he just grinned, again.

I put Edward's prototype on the tray in my stall, opting for my own weapon. I'd had years of firing each week and knew it inside and out. Maybe if Rose had used her own gun as well she would've hit more targets.

"What are you doing?" Edward puzzled.

"You have the home-court advantage. I think I'll use my own gun, if you don't mind."

"Nope, go for it," he said, smiling. I took an extra second to clear my head. His smile had left me reeling.

I fired off ten quick rounds, leaving five in the magazine. Each hit the center circle. Edward only had to miss one for our scores to be evened out. Of course he didn't. Rose was positively fuming by the time he stepped away.

"Looks like we're going back out to dinner tonight, ladies," Edward chuckled. Obviously this whole exchange had been wildly entertaining to him.

"Hold on just a second," Rose all but shouted, whipping out a gun identical to mine. She emptied the clip, each one hitting the very center of her target. Her shots were definitely closer to the mark than mine, though only by millimeters. "I didn't want y'all to think that my aim sucked." If possible, Emmett grinned even bigger at her words. Oh yes, he was smitten. I sort of had a girl-crush on her at this point too.

"It's too bad for you boys that you won," Rose continued, "because what I had in mind would've been a whole lot more fun." We had moved back to the gun-filled room. Rose and I made sure to refill our clips. We didn't exactly want to be caught in a dangerous situation without ammo.

At Emmett's pleading look, Edward asked Rose what she meant.

"Well, you both seem to know your way around weapons. But do you know anything about _true_ self-defense?" Oh no, Rose, no. This was too much.

"As a matter of fact," Emmett hinted, "we do."

"Great, it's settled. Do you have mats here or should we go into our office?"

"What kind of defense contractor would Edward be if he didn't have a decent gym in the building?"

"Lead the way."

It was clear that Rose and Emmett had taken over.

Edward looked at me—hopefully? "Are you game?" he asked.

"Sure, why not." But, truth be told, I wasn't game. I hated sparring with men. They always reacted one of the two ways. Either they took defeat way too seriously, like somehow losing to a girl cost them a certain percentage of their manhood. Or they held back, too polite to hit a lady. I was sure Edward wouldn't be any different, though I figured he'd err on the latter option. He was in for a wake-up call.

_Edward_

I was in deep, deep trouble. If I thought I was attracted to Bella before, I was wrong. Watching her ease with my gun in her hand blew my mind. She gripped the handle of her weapon with confidence and pulled the trigger time and again with expert precision. I was so hot for her I had to hide the growing bulge between my legs before it betrayed me to everyone, including her.

I was looking forward to what she could do on the mat, especially given her recent run-in with the fuckers who had attacked her. I would have to be gentle though. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her any more than she already was. Still, I knew I was in for a wild ride.


	5. Skirmishes

A/N: Chapter 5 is finally here! Thanks to everyone who has read, favorited and reviewed this story! :) Just so you know, there is a thread for "Forsaken" now on the Twilighted Forum. I'll be hanging out over there a lot, so come join the party!

I'm trying something new to entice my readers to review—everyone who reviews will get a teaser! (This is assuming that your account receives PMs). So, review and get a teaser.

As always, a huge thank-you to patsyrobinson for being an awesome beta!! :) Seriously, she rocks. Not only is she a great beta, but we have way too much fun exchanging hot photos of rpattz in all his glory. :o) Again, if you haven't read "A Long Time Coming" by Patsy, you are TOTALLY missing out!!!

Another thanks to Project Team Beta for reviewing my chapter and giving me some great suggestions! You ladies rock as well!

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, not to me. :o( Sadness.

Without further blabbage, here is Chapter 5...

---

_Bella_

"Why don't we watch Rosalie and Emmett first," I suggested. I hoped that seeing Rose kick Emmett's ass would make Edward think twice about wanting to take me on. Rose was a great martial artist. Her personality made her aggressive and her training made her deadly. She was routinely underestimated because of her looks. I had seen quite a number of cocky, male agents soundly defeated by Rose.

"Sure," Edward replied easily.

We watched them don their protective gear—it would be a full-contact match. I knew Rose's style of fighting; she didn't pull any punches. We sat a few meters way to give the pair a wide berth.

She swung first in typical Rosalie fashion. Emmett dodged and countered. She deftly avoided his would-be blow, playfully kicking his rump. She was much quicker, but his bulky muscles made up for whatever speed deficiency he had. He grabbed her arm, effortlessly absorbing her punch, and retaliated. She fell, landing hard on her back.

I heard her whimper like she was in pain and mentally rolled my eyes. She was good. Edward rose, intent on helping her. "Wait," I said, tugging on his hand. The physical contact sent shivers to my spine. His hand was big and warm and tender. My ache for him only intensified. I realized I had held onto his hand for a second too long and dropped it. Flames coursed through my cheeks. If he noticed, he didn't say anything.

He sat back down and we both watched Emmett give up on the fight to help Rose. Concern twisted his face; he thought he had hurt her.

Just as he reached down to help her up, she swiftly twisted, kicking behind his knees. He tumbled downward as she socked his groin. Leave it to Rose to go after a man's gonads. She would've impaired his ability to have children were his private parts not protected by padding. Still, he stifled a groan. That had to have hurt.

He rolled and jumped upbut she was ready. She jump-kicked his chest, sending him back a few steps. He caught her foot as she attempted to side-swipe him and twisted. She let out a shallow yelp as he wrestled her to the ground, again. This time she landed on her hands and cartwheeled upward.

They parried back and forth for a few minutes, neither one gaining the upper hand. Edward sat next to me, watching their exchange intently. "She's quite good," he said, at last.

"I know. She's put me to shame on more than one occasion." It was a small fib. Usually when Rose and I sparred, I won. She was too aggressive. Once I had figured out her fighting style she was easy to incapacitate. She had studied Kenpo for years and also had a blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do. She preferred meeting an attacker head-on and forcibly taking him to the ground.

I had studied Krav Maga and Wing Chun Kung Fu. I had also practiced stick-fighting and hand-to-hand combat in Italy. The variety of training in my background tempered me. I strategized more, anticipating an opponent's next move rather than reacting to it.

Edward rose, still clearly intending to participate in our own face-off. A thoughtful look crossed his face as he studied me. "Are you sure you're up for this?" The greening bruise that I'd done a poor job of concealing this morning obviously gave him pause.

I pondered his question for a minute, then made a strategic move. "I think so," I said weakly.

"Bella, please," he pleaded, "we don't have to do this if you're still in pain."

"No, it's alright." I was absolutely ready to kick some serious Cullen butt. I had some aggression that needed to be worked out. I wasn't about to make this easy on him.

He seemed to be satisfied with my answer. "As long as you're sure."

I nodded.

Emmett and Rose were gulping down bottles of water, having finished their match while Edward and I were talking. It seemed to be a draw. Rose handed me her gear. Edward needed a smaller size than what Emmett was wearing. I put on the sparring slippers, sending up a silent prayer of thanks that I had worn pants and not shorts. After donning the rest of the gear, careful not to push the padding too roughly against my leg, I was ready. The headgear rested against my bruised jaw. _Ouch_. Maybe this was stupid after all.

I knew Edward would be hesitant about this match. Obviously, he didn't want to hurt me. I decided to let him make the first move. It would give me a chance to see how he fought.

We bobbed slowly in a small circle, each watching the other. After a few minutes his patience wore out and he suddenly, but gently, swung at the good side of my face. I had him. I knew that he would be trying his best to avoid my sore spots. My eagerness to defeat him overrode my sense of self-preservation. _Who cares if I suffer a few bumps and bruises in our little scuffle? _

I easily dodged his first move. I saw an opening to land a good shot to his face but decided to wait. I could more readily defeat him if he thought I was merely on the defensive.

He struck again, this time aiming a low kick toward my stomach. I danced backward, dodging him once more. He tried a few more times, suddenly, to catch me off guard. He always missed.

Finally, it was time. Again he directed a swift left hook at the non-injured side of my face. He was done playing games. He wanted to win as badly as I did—and I would use that desire against him. I ducked under his blow, an easy task considering that I was nearly a foot shorter than he, and jabbed at his torso. My right fist found his stomach and he reeled backward. In the second it took him to recover from my attack, I jump-kicked his chest then ducked and swung with the full force of my shin to relieve his legs from the burden of supporting his body weight.

I heard Emmett's taunts as Edward toppled over upon himself. He was back up in a flash, clearly aggravated. It seemed that Edward Cullen wasn't a man accustomed to losing—ever. Good, his chagrin would make him more careless.

He closed the distance between us in three long strides. I decided to test a new strategy and made sure to hold still as his palm plowed into the padding protecting my face. I allowed the momentum of his contact with my gear to carry me to the ground, but not before I noticed the look of surprise on his face. He clearly hadn't expected to actually hit me. The amount of power he had put into his blow also supported that theory—it hurt, but not incapacitatingly so.

Now I had him. He would tip-toe on eggshells for the rest of our match. I was almost giddy at the thought of pummeling him, even if it was just for fun. He clearly needed to be taken down a notch or two.

I wasn't so low as to fake an injury, like Rose. But I took a certain amount of pleasure when he grimaced at the kick I'd given his shin while he was still contemplating the punch I'd endured. Even through the cushioned barrier that would leave a mark.

I rolled forward and bounded up. He swung again. I diverted his blow from my face and rammed him quickly in the ribs, twice. He lifted his leg to knee my stomach but I deflected with my elbow and shoved him backward.

We circled again, each looking for the other's weakness. He tightened his body, taking a defensive position as he inched toward me. He jabbed, I blocked. I reciprocated, he repelled. We parried like that for a few minutes.

I grew tired of that game quickly, wondering if Edward intended to bore, instead of beat, me to death. I swatted his next punch away, leaving his torso wide open. I pounded into him roughly. As he reeled I landed a devastating blow to his thigh. He crumpled but didn't fall. I jumped up, moving quickly, and round-house-kicked his head. Finally he crashed down, smacking against the mat. I reveled in that sound more than was probably appropriate, knowing that he wasn't seriously injured—at least physically.

He rose shakily. I'd definitely won this match. He smirked at me, obviously impressed that I had kicked his ass.

"Nice work, Swan," he said. "That was…unexpected."

"Thanks Cullen, looks like you need to put a few more hours in at the gym now and then," I teased. Truth be told, his body was in fine shape. I evaluated his lean but muscled torso. His arms were bulky but not grotesque. He had a well-defined chest, visible through the sweat-soaked white t-shirt he wore under the sparring gear. His legs were toned, though I barely glanced at them. I tried to avoid thinking about what Edward's lower body looked like. I was never one for the Emmett-esque physique. Edward was definitely my type.

"You should see me when I'm not holding back," he replied.

"Whatever. Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Is your ass sore from the kicking it just took?" He laughed—actually laughed—and I found myself truly enjoying my time in his presence. But the sparring wasn't over quite yet.

After Edward and I had finished our round, he took on Rose and I took on Emmett. Emmett was a bear to defeat. Any blow that would normally stagger an average-sized man had little effect on him. I changed my strategy and focused on short jabs to his extremities. Eventually, he got pissed off enough to charge head-on. I used his own weight against him, finally sending him earthward.

Edward fared better than Emmett had against Rosalie. He'd obviously figured out her fighting style through observation and had adapted accordingly. He got a few great shots in. Their match ended in a draw, mostly because both of them were so stubborn that one of them would have likely gotten seriously injured before either of them conceded.

After a few hours of sparring, we were all pretty beat. We got fresh bottles of water from Edward's private fridge and relaxed on the mats.

"You're really great, you know," Edward said to me. Emmett and Rosalie were busy mooning over each other.

"Uh, thanks."

"Why did you learn martial arts?" he wondered.

"When I was a kid I was pretty uncoordinated. I decided in college that I wanted to practice a sport that was sensible and would help me acquire a bit of grace," I laughed, trying to cover up my discomfort. I doubted Edward would be happy if he knew the real reason I had learned to defend myself. I continued, hoping to stifle the memories that resurfaced, unbidden. "I still have regressions from time to time." I thought back to the first time I met Edward, just a few days ago, when I had fallen in his office.

"I can just imagine," he said, like he was actually picturing me tripping my way through childhood. The mere thought made me blush.

"I want a rematch. I can't let a girl beat me and get away with it," he winked.

"Anytime, anywhere," I challenged.

"You're on."

We continued the playful banter for a few minutes. Rose and Emmett were still engrossed with each other. It was sickening, really. They were acting like two virginal puppies in heat.

I took a moment to evaluate Edward. He had really changed over the last two days. He seemed like a completely different person. I couldn't fathom what had prompted such a complete change of heart, but I felt encouraged. Maybe Jasper had been right—maybe he had acted like an ass only because of the stress he was under. I didn't see any asinine tendencies from him today.

He seemed to notice my perusal. "What?" He gazed at me from under his lashes. My breathing stilled under his intense stare. He mesmerized me, much like a snake does to its prey. I forced myself to blink, shaking my head to clear it.

"Nothing," I replied, far too shakily for my liking.

"Come on, _please_ tell me what you're thinking." When he used such a pleading tone I had no defense.

"I'm just marveling at your sudden change. It was only three days ago that you really seemed to hate me." I was surprised at my level of honesty, even though he _had_ charmed it out of me.

"Yeah, about that. I should apologize—I acted like a complete jerk," he offered. He didn't exactly explain the sudden shift, but I would take what I could get.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Let me make it up to you," he suggested.

I inwardly groaned. I knew Edward Cullen was a rich man, but I hated being spoiled. Last night's dinner surely cost more than I made in a month. "On one condition, Mr. Cullen," he leaned in, amused by the sudden formality in my voice, "_I _get to pay."

Either he believed in gender equality or the tone of my voice convinced him, because he perked up and nearly shouted, "Deal!"

Hmm, I hoped he wouldn't pick another extravagant place. I really didn't feel like draining my savings just to prove that I didn't need a man to pay for my meals when we went out.

"I know just the place," he continued. "Why don't we meet at the corner of 18th and L around 8?"

"Uh, sure."

"And dress casually."

I was relieved but curious. At least I wouldn't have to endure another skimpy dress.

"Oh, and I think I'll invite Jasper." Cool, if Jasper was coming I'd have to invite Alice. I hoped she was free. She _had_ to meet him.

"Sounds good." I pried Rose off of Emmett and we left.

---

_Edward_

As Emmett and I drove back to my loft I thought about Bella and our interaction today. I had caught a glimpse of the person behind the badge and was intrigued. Well, more than intrigued—I was besotted. She was dazzling. When she wasn't worried about catching crooks she was fun and easy to be around.

She had surprised me with her fighting skills. She spun and twirled expertly, not at all resembling the red-faced woman who had tripped in my office just days before. I found her confidence to be ridiculously appealing. She was much more nuanced than Rosalie. I noticed her constant evaluation of my moves. She had beaten me soundly, partly because I was unprepared. I didn't want to hurt her. Not that I hadn't tried my hardest…eventually. I understood better how she had taken down two men after witnessing her prowess firsthand.

Tonight should be fun. I chose my favorite place to kick back, the bar I went to when I needed cheap beer and simple distractions. I looked forward to spending more time with Bella in a casual environment. I was sure that tomorrow Agent Swan would be all about business.

"Dude, I think I'm in love," Emmett broke into my reflection.

"Rose seems to suit you," I noted, trying to focus on Emmett. I shoved thoughts of Bella to the back of my mind where they simmered.

"She's so hot! And, did you see those legs when she kicked me? I almost lost it right then and there."

"She is pretty," I agreed.

"Pretty is almost insulting when used to describe Rose. She's fucking _gorgeous!_" I listened to Emmett rattle off quite a list of her attributes the rest of the way home. Clearly I wasn't the only one intrigued by a member of the opposite sex who also happened to be a federal agent.

"Where are we going tonight, bro?" Apparently he was finished admiring Rosalie mentally, for now.

"Recessions."

"Sweet, I love that place. I wonder if Rose is good at pool."

"Judging by her skill set so far, I would imagine so," I wagered.

I spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on work, though I wasn't nearly as productive as usual. A fetching brunette kept invading my thoughts. I could tell that Emmett was no different. He whistled for a while as he killed zombies in one of his favorite video games. At one point he even broke into song. It was just odd—the man _never_ sang. Obviously, we both were very much looking forward to tonight.

---

_Bella_

"Alice, I don't care about your deadline. You are coming out with us tonight and I'm not taking no for an answer." I knew that Jasper and Alice would hit it off. Rosalie had managed to slyly wrest from Emmett the fact that Jasper was single. It was essential for her to come. She had other ideas though. Her boss had a huge show later in the week and she had a lot of work to finish before then.

"Give me the phone," Rosalie barked as she all but tore it out of my hands.

"Alice, you listen to me. If you are not at Bella's apartment in thirty minutes or less I am coming to get you. If you flee, I will follow. I have the full resources of the United States government at my beck and call and I will track you down. Get your little ass over here, _now._"

Rose clicked the phone shut as she handed it back to me. "I think she'll be here," she predicted.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later I heard my intercom buzz five times in rapid succession. Apparently Alice was less than happy at being threatened.

"Sheesh girls, what is so important that I have to come out tonight?" She complained as she tore inside my front door with the effervescent zeal of a bunny on crack.

"There might be a guy involved," Rose answered.

Alice rolled her eyes, but perked up a bit. She hadn't been on a date in a while. The last guy she'd gone out with had turned into a real creep. She had to get a restraining order against him and spent a few weeks hanging out at my place until we were convinced he would leave her alone. I think it helped that Rose and I had followed him home from work and pulled our guns on him. He decided it was best not to have two armed federal agents pissed off at him.

"Who is this guy?"

"He's working with me on the Cullen case. He's Edward's private investigator." Now she was suspicious. She'd heard my rant against PIs more than once. Though they got the job done, I hadn't met many whose personalities were winning.

"Oh, great."

"No, Jasper's different," I assured her.

"Yeah, right. I'm not desperate you know. And what kind of name is Jasper?" She rolled her eyes, punctuating her words.

"It is sort of a weird name," Rosalie interjected. I glared her. She was not helping matters.

"Look, Alice, I wouldn't fix you up with someone unless I thought you guys would get along. Have a little faith, okay?" She still seemed unconvinced but I hoped my speech at least guilted her into coming.

"Well girls, what are we gonna wear?" Alice had officially put on her game face.

We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about Edward and Emmett as we got ready. Alice had to make a trip home to get appropriate clothes. We all tagged along, grabbing a late lunch on the way back.

Alice donned an exquisite, though short, chocolate-brown skirt with multi-colored flowers embroidered up one side. Her lavender tank top matched perfectly. Dainty shoes finished off her outfit. Rose opted for a mini-skirt that barely slinked past her upper thighs. Her top sparkled, doing a poor job of concealing her ample bosom. Red lipstick and too much mascara finished off her look.

"You know guys, Edward did say _casual_," I reminded them.

"Yeah, but we all know what he really meant Bella. That's guy-speak for looking smokin'. Jeans just are not the same," Rose said, eyeing my own outfit critically.

I was wearing a pair of dark jeans with enough room in the waistband to accommodate the back holster that would house my gun. My black tunic top was embroidered around the neckline and wristband, though it was nowhere near as intricate as Alice's skirt. Plain black Sketchers rounded out my ensemble.

"You know, Rosalie, we still need to keep an eye on Edward. His life is still in danger."

"Whatev, you can protect Edward and still look hot."

"She's right, Bella! Let me look in your closet. Surely you've got something a bit more suitable?" Alice was dying to get her hands on me again. Ugh, these two were incorrigible.

"No thanks." I was not in the mood to play dress-up again.

Alice pouted but surprisingly didn't push me further. She pulled out her cosmetics bag. I inwardly groaned as she all but attacked me. I had to admit, though, she did another bang-up job of covering my bruise. She applied a bit too much eye makeup for my taste, but I would allow her that small satisfaction since she hadn't thrown a fit about my clothes. Hopefully I wouldn't have to wear a ton of makeup for much longer. At least the swelling was minimal and it didn't hurt as much. Even today's activities hadn't really bothered me. When I was a child I had found out the hard way that I healed quickly.

While they finished getting ready, I returned Renee's phone call. I had been putting it off for way too long. The fact that she hadn't called me a dozen times proved that she didn't know about the attack. I planned on keeping it that way.

We chatted for a few minutes. Phil had been promoted to Assistant Manager for the team in Florida. Renee was excited that they wouldn't have to move. He had given up playing ball about five years ago when he blew out his knee and had worked as one of the junior coaches since then. He had just about given up on finding a management job in the area. I was happy for them; Renee needed the stability Phil could provide.

She asked about work and I gave her the normal response. Work was fine, I loved my job, etc. I heard Phil calling in the background and Renee made her excuses. "Love you, baby. I hope you'll consider coming down soon. It's been too long."

"I'll think about it mom. Love you, too. Bye."

It was true, I'd only been down twice since college. Being around Renee just brought back too many memories. And she couldn't help but talk about Charlie, making matters worse. She seemed to be oblivious to the fact that thinking about him was painful.

I pushed those thoughts aside. Tonight I'd try my best to have fun. Rose and Alice were finally ready and we headed out.

---

It was a few minutes after 8 by the time we met the guys. Edward looked dashing, as usual, in a brown suede jacket and button up shirt. I was glad that at least he seemed to understand what casual meant. Emmett's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when he saw Rosalie. Clearly he had been expecting her to wear jeans and a t-shirt. He didn't look disappointed though.

"Edward, Emmett, this is Alice."

"Pleased to meet you," she said, shooting me a quizzical glance.

Edward noticed, having obviously deduced the purpose of Alice's presence. "Jasper's running late. He'll meet us inside."

"And, where exactly are we going?" Rosalie asked.

"Just down the street to one of my favorite watering holes."

We approached the unobtrusive sign that read "Recessions" in all caps. The glass door led down a flight of stairs and through a long hall. The bar itself was relatively tiny, filled with blue-collar DC folks. _Just my type of joint._

We managed to snag one of the longer tables. Just as we sat down, I saw Jasper enter. "Hey, Edward, everyone, sorry I'm late."

"Hi, Jasper, this is Rosalie Hale and my friend Alice Brandon."

"Hey, Bella. Nice to meet you Rosalie and Alice." His words were addressed to all of us but I could tell he was only talking to Alice. He was definitely smitten. Her expression mirrored his.

Edward leaned over to me and whispered, "Good work." I turned to smile at him. Playful Edward took my breath away. He was a scant few inches away, allowing me to peruse his face at leisure. His eyes were smiling, his hair the usual jumble.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, at last.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great," I said, grabbing the beer list. "I'll go for a Blue Moon."

"You got it," he said, maneuvering up from the table and to the bar.

Emmett had already left to get Rosalie a tequila shot. She was definitely in the mood to party. Jasper got Alice a cosmo. All three guys opted for beer. Edward had two Blue Moons in his hands as he sat down. Emmett was chugging a Guinness and Jasper had Yuengling.

"Copy cat," I teased when he handed me my drink.

"Hey, I can't help it if you've got good taste."

My face flushed slightly at his compliment. Again I marveled at the man sitting next to me. Edward was so different than Mr. Cullen. He was laid-back, sweet even. It took my breath away.

"How are your dart-tossing skills?" he asked, looking at a group of people leaving the boards.

"Eh, nothing to write home about."

"Great! Let's go," he beckoned, standing up. He all but dragged me to the dartboard. Neither Alice nor Rose noticed as we left the group. They were both absorbed in their own partners for the evening.

Edward and I played a few rounds of darts. He beat me easily each time. I was not a great dartist.

"Finally something I can whomp you in," he mocked, playfully.

"Is 'whomp' even a word?"

"It is now!"

I laughed. We conversed easily about our lives and hobbies.

"So why did you decide to study English?" he asked.

"I grew up reading the greats of classical literature. It just seemed natural to study them."

"The greats? Like what?" he pressed.

"My all-time favorite book is _Wuthering Heights_."

"Really? That's interesting."

"Why?"

"I would have thought something like _Crime and Punishment_ might be more your style."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"So, you're a romantic then?"

"Something like that. What about you? What do you like to do in your spare time?" I was starting to get uncomfortable with his line of questioning, not that I minded discussing literature. I just didn't like to talk about myself as much.

"My one passion, aside from my professional interests, is music."

"Really? Do you play anything?"

He paused, seeming almost embarrassed at answering. Finally, he did. "The piano. You?"

I laughed awkwardly. "No, I am not musically gifted. Though I can appreciate good music as much as the next girl."

"You know, this place has a jukebox. We should make use of it."

We abandoned playing darts and headed over to the jukebox. I didn't think there would many songs I either knew or liked. But, when we reached it, I realized it was an Internet jukebox that allowed the user to play virtually any song.

"Why don't I pick five and you pick five? Don't peek though," he shouted. Someone had put on an annoying rap song and we had to yell over the music.

I nodded, opting to spare my vocal chords a bit of abuse.

When he finished I picked five of my favorite songs. I had a hard time thinking of them off the top of my head mostly because I wanted to pick a good range. I didn't want Edward to think I was a musical dolt.

The jukebox didn't play songs in the order they were downloaded so we had fun trying to pick out each other's songs from the rest.

"I didn't think of you as a gangsta, Edward," I teased when we heard "Gangster's Paradise" come on.

"You got me," he winked, actually winked, at me as my heart did flip-flops. His green eyes smoldered, incinerating my insides.

A few minutes later the bar was filled with a haunting, but soothing, melody. I could tell this wasn't the normal type of music patrons of Recessions were used to hearing. Some of them even yelled out derogatory comments about whoever had chosen the piece. I joined in, knowing full well who it had to be.

"What snob would pick Clair De Lune for this type of environment?" I giggled at the sheepish look Edward's face had taken on. "Got you," I laughed.

"You know Debussy?" he wondered, after realizing I knew he had picked the song and was only teasing him.

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites."

"Me too."

"I think you'll like one of my choices then."

"I look forward to it. Speaking of forward..." Edward motioned toward Rosalie and Emmett. They were playing pool across the room from where we sat at the bar. She was clearly trying to distract Emmett by leaning over the table, exposing even more cleavage than the shirt did by itself. "Looks like they're enjoying themselves."

"They're not the only ones," I pointed out. Alice and Jasper were tucked away in a small booth. Obviously the large table we had originally sequestered was not intimate enough for them. They were deep in animated conversation.

"Are you and Alice close?" he wondered.

I nodded. "She was my first real friend when I moved here. We met in a department store dressing room. She helped me find some work clothes and then declared what great friends we'd be. I admit that I was a little freaked but she was nothing but nice from day one, if a little pushy. How long have you, Emmett and Jasper been friends?"

"You're good," he noted. "I thought I was fooling your office with Emmett."

"Oh, come on. It's clear that you keep your friends close, especially professionally."

"Let's just hope your doesn't figure that out. I'd like to avoid federal protection."

"My lips are sealed. To be honest, even if he does find out about your relationship with Emmett, he probably won't impose anyone else on you. He doesn't like you all that much—and Emmett seems to know his stuff. Mitch was more than glad to be relieved of the burden of your protection."

I thought I might have upset him and cursed my big mouth. But, Edward actually seemed cheered by the thought of Mitch upset. "Well, he certainly put me through the ringer. I had a thousand forms to sign just so I could use my own man."

My response was interrupted when one of my songs started playing.

"Linkin Park?" he asked.

"Yup."

"I love their first album. 'In the End' is one of my favorites."

"Me too!" I smiled enthusiastically at him. I couldn't help myself. It was almost exhilarating to find that we had something in common, even something as insignificant as music or beer. He returned the smile, but seemed to be in distress, like he wasn't breathing.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just one sec," he rasped, getting up. He went to the bathrooms. That was odd—and sudden. I wondered what was going on and hoped that Mr. Cullen wouldn't come back in place of Edward.

---

_Edward_

_She smiled at me_. It wasn't the first time I had seen Bella smile. But, it was the first time I had seen her completely carefree and open. Her smile had quite literally taken my breath away. I needed a moment to collect myself before going back out there. And, _dammit_, she had noticed that I wasn't breathing.

I wondered what was wrong with me. I was acting like a lovesick schoolboy. I'd had plenty of women in the past, but no one did things to my heart like Bella Swan. I'd known her for less than a week and I was smitten. She was simply the most incredible woman I'd ever come across. Not even Tanya, my on-again off-again lover, came close to Bella's draw on me.

I forced myself to regain some semblance of composure and went back out. She looked up worriedly as I sat down. "Are you okay, Edward?" My heart clenched at her use of my name, the way it rolled off her delicious tongue.

"I'm fine. Just a little head rush," I lied. She didn't look convinced, but let it drop. I truly hoped my interest in her wasn't transparent. I had no idea if she felt the same—not that I had done much initially to garner any favor from her. She seemed to be willing enough to hang out though. That gave me hope.

I gasped a little when my second-favorite piece of classical music began pumping through the speakers. "Moonlight Sonata?"

She blushed, strangely, and nodded. I wondered why that would embarrass her, but didn't mind. She was even lovelier with a hint of color in her cheeks.

"That's one of my favorites too. We seem to have very similar tastes in music," I noted.

"It's weird," she said, as if she didn't have many friends with whom she shared simple pleasures such as music.

"Indeed," I agreed, though I wasn't sure why. I felt like I should do my best to make her feel at ease.

While I was in the bathroom she had ordered another round and was sucking enticingly on her bottle of Blue Moon. I hadn't known many women who enjoyed Belgian-style beers.

"So, what's with the Blue Moon?" I asked, sipping my own.

"I love Belgian beers! And Belgian-style is pretty great too!" The alcohol streaming through her blood was starting to affect her. Her face had taken on a flushed glow that didn't seem to be related to embarrassment.

"Me too. What's your favorite?" I was dying to learn more about this fascinating woman.

"Hmm, I like Chimay for special occasions."

"What do you have in your fridge right now?"

"Hoegaarden," she replied, quickly and easily with a small smile. I was stunned. I had the same type at home too, along with a bottle of Chimay's Grande Reserve.

"I like Hoegaarden a lot too."

While we were deep in our discussion about beer, Alice and Jasper came up.

"Hey, Bella, thanks for inviting me out," Alice said, while hugging Bella. "I need to get home. I've got an early day tomorrow."

"I'm glad you come out! Do you need a ride?" Bella offered

"Nope, Jasper's going to give me one." She winked at Bella who gave her a quick thumbs up.

"Okay, call me tomorrow."

"I will, bye!" The pair left, hand-in-hand. _That was certainly fast._

Bella looked at her cell phone and grimaced. "I can't believe it's almost 11. I actually need to get going myself."

_Damn._ I was really hoping that our impromptu date would last at least past midnight. I was having so much fun.

"We'll miss the rest of our songs," I tried to persuade her.

"I know, but I've got a weekend's worth of work to catch up on." Her words reminded me of the circumstances that had thrown us together. Of course she needed to get home.

"Alright, let's go get Emmett and Rose." I pulled out my wallet to pay the bill and she cleared her throat.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" She was using her best, most authoritative FBI voice.

"Uh, paying?"

"Don't you remember your promise to me earlier today?" No, I honestly didn't. How did she expect me to remember anything I promised when I was looking in her eyes? I would've promised her anything at that moment, though I might not have remembered it later.

"_I'm_ paying." Oh, right.

"Sorry, force of habit." I smiled, and she was mollified, slightly.

She took care of the bill and I went to get the other pair of lovers. "Hey guys, we're leaving."

Rose looked at the clock and cursed. "Shit, it's later than I thought. He's right Em, I have to go too." Emmett looked disappointed, but went to collect their jackets.

We headed out into the night. I had such a great time with Bella and was looking forward to more.

---

_Bella_

As we left, the buzz from my interactions with Edward still loomed large. The beer didn't hurt either. He was so much fun to just hang out with. I had forgotten about work and the case. Even my past seemed to recede tonight. Rose and Emmett walked a few feet ahead of us, their hands interlaced. Obviously, they were taken with each other.

Edward and I had so much in common: music, beer, and even sparring. It didn't feel like I had known him for less than a week and had liked him for only a few days. I couldn't remember the last time someone had so thoroughly taken over my thoughts. It hadn't happened in DC. I'd barely gone out on a dozen dates since moving here. Not even Jacob had had the same effect on me. I was positively giddy when I was around Edward.

It was only by chance that I glanced up at Edward's face at precisely the right moment. A red dot trailed along the wall behind his head, suddenly flickering brightly at the center of his forehead. A silent shot rang in my mind as loudly as if the weapon had been fired without a silencer. I cursed myself for forgetting my job and the real reason Edward and I were together, shrieking inwardly as he fell.

A/N: Well, there it is. Please don't murder me for the cliffie…  Again, a review equals a teaser.   


	6. Duties

a/n: Many thanks to all who read and review! :)

Thank you to my sister, tigercrazyjen, for being the first to read this chapter! :) Her encouragement keeps me writing. :)

Also, thank you to patsyrobinson for her uber-helpful suggestions (and for removing all of my unnecessary dashes!). (You are the mother of my e-babies.) She totally rocks my world...esp when I am tipsy-typing to her at odd hours of the day. Hehe. If you haven't yet, check out A Long Time Coming. She just updated and it's getting lemony!! Yum! :)

Another thanks to Kristi28 for her encouragement and work with this chapter (wow, I really am in love with the word "and")!! I think I have developed a girl-crush of my own... I cannot thank Project Team Beta enough for assigning Kristi to me and for pairing me with other awesome betas! :)

Thanks also to beckalippy, a dear, "real life" friend who lovingly fell for this story and forced me to send her every word I had written (okay, I volunteered, truth be told...but she didn't say no). Hehe... :) She's headed to Korea for the rest of her life (I guess 2 years isn't quite that long) but I'll miss her fiercely!

A big smoochy kiss to vjgm for validating me so quickly!!! :)

Finally, I do not own anything Twilight. The great goddess that is Stephenie Meyer owns EdwardXBella and all the deliciousness of Twilight.

_---_

_Bella_

I cursed myself for forgetting my job and the real reason Edward and I were together, shrieking inwardly as he fell, propelled roughly out of the way by my frantic hands. His face was twisted in a mixture of awe and horror as he narrowly avoided the bullet that whizzed over his head and exploded into a wall behind us. I pressed against him defensively, shielding him with my body, and whipped out my gun. I aimed the barrel upward at the likeliest location of the gunman. A dark shadow, moving on top of a building directly across the street from where we huddled, caught my eye. I fired at him, hoping to buy us enough time to get Edward to safety. He was far too exposed on the street.

While firing a few more warning shots in the air, I hardly even noticed the panic of nearby pedestrians as my gun roared. At least there were only a few people nearby—it was past 11, after all. Edward struggled behind me to get up. Emmett and Rose, having finally discerned the situation, helped me manhandle Edward into a small convenience store that was nearby.

"Stay with him," I ordered the pair, shouting my last instructions over my shoulder as I raced outside. "He needs to be kept away from windows!"

"Bella! No!" My subconscious barely registered Edward's voice as I took off. He would not be happy about being held behind. I glanced back just before exiting the store, wincing at the sight of Edward straining against an agitated Rose and a concerned Emmett. I couldn't waste any more time worrying about his reaction to me doing my job.

If I hadn't been focusing strictly on finding the assailant, I'd be frantic. Edward's life was in danger. _Edward_.

I bounded across the street, narrowly avoiding a few cars, and raced inside the lobby of the building I'd seen the gunman atop. Thankfully, despite the late hour, the doors were open. A bored-looking security guard sat behind a desk to the left of the main doors.

"I need access to your parking garage, _now!_" I all but shouted at the poor man while simultaneously flashing him my badge. He got up immediately and escorted me to the elevators.

I needed to convey to him the gravity of the situation and get his help quickly. Any second I wasted describing the situation was another second Edward's life was imperiled. "Call the police and don't let anyone leave if you can help it at all," I ordered. He seemed to understand that a crime was unfolding in his place of employment and nodded as the elevator doors entrapped me within a coffin-sized box.

I took the few moments I had alone to strategize. I had only seen one shooter, though there could be more. I'd have to be careful. Whoever was responsible for this latest attack almost certainly was still in the building. It was just a guess on my part that they'd have a getaway vehicle stashed in the basement parking garage. In reality he, she, or they could rappel down the building in the soft cover of night. There could also be a fire escape or back door to use. I couldn't handle all the possibilities on my own.

I quickly texted Rosalie to let her know the situation. _In basement of 1818 L St—backup needed. _ Thankfully, I had noted the address as I entered the lobby. As I silenced my ringer, I hoped that Emmett would be enough to keep Edward in line while Rose was gone.

I had a few seconds left to check my magazine…ugh, only 9 bullets left. Even 15 bullets weren't a lot when facing at least one armed assassin.

The elevator doors dinged open, frustrating me with the sound's intensity. If someone were within hearing distance, they'd know I was coming. I crept out of the elevator, crouching as I went. No need to give anyone a clear shot.

The parking garage was dimly lit, not unlike the garage where I'd been assaulted less than a week ago. The irony of this situation wasn't lost on me. Hopefully I wouldn't die here.

I didn't see anything suspicious. There was only one floor, though it was vast and obviously reserved for employees. One door, cattycorner to my position, led to a staircase; another set of elevators sat way across the lot. I couldn't check the far side of the garage but I assumed there would be at least another staircase there as well. The only other exit was the gated driveway that led up to the street.

I knelt down behind a car, gaining a good view of the scene through its windows. A few seconds passed and nothing unusual happened. I was about to shift positions, hoping to get an even better perch from which to observe, when I noticed a dark figure, clad in black and shouldering a long case, quietly step past the staircase doors. He, or she, was about 50 feet from where I hid.

I ducked when the figure glanced around, peeking out from underneath the car to see if I could catch a glimpse of the perp's feet. Nothing.

Slowly, I inched upward until I could see once again through the windows. The weight of my gun felt like a lifeline in my hands, even if I only had nine chances to use it.

The figure was moving across the lot toward the gated exit. It was now or never.

I got up, still crouching, and moved silently forward, sliding between cars and concrete columns. It was wise to keep something solid between us at all times, just in case my opponent was quicker with a weapon. I was gaining, closing the gap between us to about 30 feet. From my vantage point, I could tell that the person was male—the body was too massive to belong to a female, unless she were freakishly large.

Suddenly, a car jetted across the lot, screeching to a halt inches in front of the figure. _Shit!_ I jumped out yelling, "Freeze!" The startled figure whipped his head back. I fired, hitting him somewhere in his extremities. The force of the shot was not enough to ground him; he managed to get inside the car. Someone in the back of the car had already rolled a window down and was aiming a handgun at me. I hit the floor, landing on my shoulder, as bullets whirled around me. I zeroed in on the car's tires as it sped off, emptying my clip. I managed to hit one tire and it burst, causing the car to dovetail wildly.

Another gun fired behind me and I glanced back to see Rose standing directly in line with the fleeing vehicle. Still, the car managed to escape, ripping through the security gate that was supposed to bar its path to freedom. I strained to catch a plate number or any other descriptor that could help identify the vehicle later; _nothing._

"Bella, are you alright?" Rose's concern was touching. She assessed me visually, seemingly satisfied that I was still largely intact. My shoulder throbbed a bit from my rough treatment of it, but I was fine.

"Yeah, I'm just angry that they got away!" And, I was angry, but I didn't see what I could've done differently. If I had exposed my presence to the assailant any sooner, he would've bolted or fired back. Since I didn't know where his accomplices had been waiting, it might've led to a shoot-out. With only 9 bullets, that wasn't the smartest option. At least I'd nailed the sucker.

"I did hit the shooter once," I told her. "So some blood should have spattered the ground. We also need to keep an eye on the local hospitals, though I doubt these guys are careless enough to take their friend anywhere that keeps records." Rosalie agreed.

"Did you call for backup?" I wondered.

"Yes, they should be here soon."

"Good, I didn't have a chance. I got down here just a few seconds before the shooter did."

"Awesome instincts, by the way," she praised. It was a little uncharacteristic of Rose to praise _anyone_, so I took her compliment to heart.

"Thanks, Rose. I'm glad you got down here so fast. How is Edward?"

She laughed, actually laughed. Leave it to Rose to lighten the most dire of circumstances. "Pissed. We nearly had to knock him out to keep him contained."

"I figured as much."

"Yeah, he seems very protective of you." _Come again_? Edward Cullen, CEO of the largest defense contracting firm in America, whose own life is in danger at this very moment, is protective of _me?_

"Uh…," was all I could manage.

"Bella, _come on_, can't you see that he's _totally_ into you?" Well, no, not really. I mean, we had fun hanging together, but _into me?_ No way.

"No, I don't see that at all. But, that's beside the point. We should probably focus on the task at hand, don't you agree?" I really didn't feel like discussing Edward's personal feelings for me at that precise moment.

"You are _so _lame," she retorted, winking.

The familiar roar of FBI vehicles reached my ears as they waited for the attendant on duty to let them into the crime scene. I stayed to talk with the agents while Rose escorted a few armed guards back to the store to round up Edward and Emmett.

---

"That was _incredibly foolish_, Bella!" Edward spat, nearly screaming at me when he was within an earshot. I cringed as a handful of snoopy agents looked our way, clearly interested in what they thought would be a heated exchange.

He had sped up to me and grabbed my upper arms, shaking me while continuing his tirade. "You could have been hurt or killed! Why on earth would go off on your own? Do you have a death wish?" Fire I recognized all too well blazed in his eyes. His breath came in short, shallow gasps. "What the hell were you thinking?" I let him get it all out of his system. I wasn't the only one who had been in imminent danger. He had been a sheer whisper away from death mere minutes before and was clearly still shaken.

Despite his ire and the circumstances, his touch ignited a very different type of fire in my body. Electricity surged up my spine, melting my insides within me. He had barely touched me before, and certainly hadn't ever held me for such an extended period. I was ashamed to say that his touch did things to my body that my mind all too happily did to his.

Finally, he had calmed enough to lower his voice. "Bella," my name slid off his tongue, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Edward." He relaxed more and held me closer, wrapping his arms around me in a firm hug. The feel of his body pressed so tightly against mine caused my heart to beat more rapidly than it had when I was fired upon. His divine scent overwhelmed me and my aching for him increased exponentially. He rubbed my back soothingly, like _I_ was the one who needed comfort. My arms acted automatically, lacing themselves around him and returning his embrace.

I heard him whisper, ever so quietly, "I was worried about you." I wasn't sure if he had meant for me to hear him or not. But I had. Maybe Rose wasn't so far off base after all. "Thank you, Bella, for saving my life."

Our embrace was interrupted by someone clearing his throat. "Uh, excuse me Agent Swan, but we need you." Clearly my colleague was a little uncomfortable at Edward's display of affection. He awkwardly unwrapped his arms from around me and stepped back. I retreated, careful not to look him in the eyes. I was sure that his expression would be more than I could take.

I stumbled my way back to the SUVs parked in a line, intoxicated by his touch, and finished up my official duties for the day.

---

_Edward_

I had let my guard drop. I'd had such a great time with Bella that I had let her essence completely envelop me, edging out all concerns for myself. What a fool I was. The bullet aimed at me had come so close to hitting her when she shoved me out of its path. Now I owed her my life. It upset me to no end that she was so recklessly willing to forsake her own life to protect mine. Apparently I wasn't the only fool.

It had taken the combined forces of Emmett and Rosalie to restrain me in that tiny hellhole of a store. I wanted nothing more than to catch Bella and keep her from doing her job. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that by resisting them so violently I was keeping Rosalie from helping Bella, but at that point my purely animalistic tendencies, my need to shield her, had won out. Emmett finally put me in a chokehold when Rosalie got a text from Bella. "She's in the parking garage, I need to go."

That had snapped me out of my episode. Bella was alone in a parking lot, again, facing the criminals who were out for _my_ blood. I stopped struggling immediately so Rosalie could go back her up. _You are a damn fool!_ my mind screamed at me. I was, indeed.

It had seemed like hours, days even, before Rose returned, bringing with her a handful of men armed to their eyeballs. "Is Bella okay?" I was beyond worried. Rosalie nodded. _Thank heaven._ I didn't know what I would have done if she'd been harmed.

I felt like a kid as Rosalie, Emmett, and the other agents circled me and marshaled me to the garage, forcing me to stoop as I walked. I couldn't stop myself from nearly sprinting up to Bella when I saw that she was, indeed, all right. I had never felt so relieved, ever—not even when my mother had had a cancer scare, or when Carlisle had been in that awful car accident. None of those moments compared to the complete and utter relief I felt when I saw Bella was unharmed, unscathed.

I could tell she wasn't particularly fond of me yelling at her, but I was so scared, so upset, that I barely knew what I was saying. And, before I could even contemplate the repercussions, I surrounded her with my arms. It wasn't a gentle hug, like the kind you give to your great aunt to be polite. It was desperate and rough. I needed to feel her pressed against me. I needed to touch her and make sure that she was safe. I needed to shelter her, protect her—even though I had already failed so miserably at that.

And, she returned my hug. I felt her tiny, though apparently deadly, hands wrap around my waist and gently stroke my back. She was comforting _me_. Was there no end to her bravery? She had raced out of that convenience store without a second thought, even though she had no idea how many men there were, or if she would even make it out alive. I loved her all the more for it.

Wait…I…_loved_…her? The realization crashed against me so forcefully that I couldn't breathe for a few seconds. I loved her. I loved Bella Swan. I let the thought roll around my head a little, getting used to it. It wasn't untrue—I did love her. I loved everything about her, from the way her hair fell gently against her back to the way she had kicked my ass in our sparring session—I loved her.

I watched as she did very official-looking things with her colleagues. She was a professional; I could see that now and chastised myself for ever doubting her. I didn't like the idea of her putting herself in danger, especially on my account, but I could see that she was very good at her job. I would stop trying to get her removed from my case; I didn't want to sully her reputation or hinder her career in any way. She loved it and I loved her. A silent tear slid down my face as I beheld her from afar.

---

_Bella_

"Pull into the garage there on the right," Edward said, handing me a nondescript white card. We were outside a large warehouse building, recently converted into luxury lofts, in the heart of one of the trendiest sections of the city.

"We'll escort you inside," Rose insisted. She was still Agent Hale, no doubt chagrined that she had missed out on the majority of tonight's excitement. I had to agree, though. It would be a good idea if we all ensured that Edward made it inside safely. I flashed the white card in front of a sensor and the steel door barring our entrance lifted. We pulled into the small garage as the door closed quickly behind us.

"Go to the upper level," he instructed. I followed the path, winding upward. Finally, we reached the top. Another steel door prevented further access. "Swipe the card again." I did, and it too opened. "These are my private parking spots."

I briefly gawked at the array of sports cars parked inside the tiny lot. I pulled into a spot a few spaces away from any of Edward's cars. I could only imagine what his reaction would be if I scratched one of them. An Aston Martin Vantage sat closest to the spot I had taken. I recognized it only because we had recovered a Vantage a few months ago during an undercover drug-bust, and most of the male agents I knew still hadn't stopped drooling over its memory. A few other sparkling vehicles sat in his garage as well.

We had all gotten out of the SUV by this point and headed toward the only door in the lot. I noticed Edward punch a few buttons nestled within a panel on the wall. At my inquisitive looked, he explained, "These buttons control the temperature and humidity levels within my garage."

"Oh," was my brilliant reply. The man kept his garage climate-controlled? I was lucky when the air conditioning in my apartment worked right. I never gave a single thought to the type of environment my car would enjoy.

He entered a few numbers on a different keypad and swung open the door. It led down a corridor to his front door. Edward waded through the security measures he'd put in place to prevent unwanted access to his home. It put my mind at ease to know that he would be safe at his apartment, if nowhere else. I stepped inside, briefly flummoxed by the size of the place.

The front door opened into an expansive living area. Immediately across from the door were glass walls, covered in curtains. The ceiling rested two stories above tempered bamboo floors, giving the main room an airy, spacious feeling. To the right was a kitchen, equipped with every modern amenity imaginable. A hall stretched further backward. To the left was a door also encased in glass walls. I could barely make out the edge of a piano, hibernating in its corner.

"Would you like something to drink?" Edward asked, chuckling slightly at the awed expression on my face. I snapped out of my reverie for a second, pushing Agent Swan to the forefront of my mind. She'd been dormant far too much tonight.

"Yes, but I'd like to make sure there aren't any intruders. Your security system is impressive, but even the best security can be breeched."

"Don't worry," he replied, pushing a button on a monitor sitting just inside the door, "I've got a heat detector that will alert me if anyone is or has been here." The monitor blinked to life. Edward pushed some more buttons and the screen was filled with distorted colors. He flashed through each room, satisfied that we were the only people who had been here.

"Now, about that drink?" he pressed.

"Um, water is fine for me, thanks."

"I'll take a beer," Rose said without hesitating. I shot her a disapproving look. "What? I could use one after what happened tonight."

"Me too," Edward echoed.

"Make that three," Emmett said.

Edward tossed Rose and Emmett each a beer. He looked at me and I shook my head. I wasn't about to let alcohol cloud whatever judgment I had left. Perhaps if I hadn't been drinking earlier tonight I could have caught the man who had tried to kill Edward, though I doubted it. He shrugged and took a long swig of his beverage. I didn't blame him. I'd wanted to drink myself silly after being assaulted by those two thugs, and I was a trained professional. Edward must have really been rattled.

"Would you ladies like a grand tour?" Edward asked, halfway finished with his first beer.

"Sure," I said. Perhaps doing something would help take Edward's mind off of things for awhile.

He showed us a few highlights of his kitchen. I have to admit that I was slightly jealous of the mini-fridge sequestered just for beer. His wine cooler was pretty impressive too. The stainless steel refrigerator was huge, housing an array of beverages itself but not much by way of food. He had a double oven, though I doubted it got much use. His silver espresso maker beckoned from its place on the counter.

He led us into the living room, the first room we had seen upon entering. Two cushy leather sofas lined the edge of a modern rug. A few lamps were scattered on end-tables but otherwise the room was rather spartan. He pushed a button on the wall and the curtains framing the windows slid back even further, revealing an amazing view of the Capitol building. The Washington Monument could be seen in the distance, eerily illuminated against the blackened sky.

"I love DC at night," I all but whispered. He looked at me strangely, like I had said aloud what he was thinking. My stomach lurched involuntarily as his gaze deepened, reminding me of our earlier, intimate contact. We were interrupted by Emmett's loud chuckle at whatever Rosalie had just said. Ugh, those two could be annoying sometimes.

We continued the tour. Next up was the glass room on the far left side of his apartment. The piano I'd seen earlier was illuminated when he flipped a switch. "Bella, Rosalie, would you mind stepping outside the door for a moment?" A smile lit Edward's eyes. We obeyed, and he motioned for Emmett to shut the door, trapping them inside the room.

"Weird," Rosalie said, nursing her beer. I agreed.

A second later Edward started to play. We could see could his fingers dance across the keys, but heard nothing. The room was obviously encased in sound-proof glass. "Amazing," and expensive.

He and Emmett stepped outside the glass. Edward showed us the guest room and bathroom on the other end of the ground floor, past the kitchen. From there, we went back toward the kitchen and past it, to the staircase against the back wall. Edward had two more bedrooms upstairs, including his master suite.

As I entered what was Edward's most private sanctuary, I found myself reevaluating the man. His room was warm, inviting even, and didn't resemble the cold man from a few days before at all. A wood-burning fireplace sat impatiently in one corner, as if demanding that winter be whisked toward us more quickly than nature intended. His mantle guarded a half-dozen family pictures. Two prominent faces, whom I ascertained were his parents, smiled lovingly, caged within an elaborate frame.

The walls were a deep blue, punctuated with curtained windows. I recognized a Salvador Dali painting hanging above his dresser and wondered if it was an original. I had a sneaking suspicious that it was.

My heart thudded expectantly as my eyes roved over his bed. A huge California King, wedged between two modern-looking bedside tables, sat invitingly against the back wall. A simple, dark brown bedding ensemble finished off a masculine, but warm, bed.

Opposite the bed was a desk with a laptop positioned precisely in the middle. Important-looking documents were piled in neat stacks around the computer. Obviously, Edward brought his work home with him.

Two doors, leading to a bathroom and closet, respectively, finished off my perusal of his sleeping quarters.

After finishing the grand tour, we traipsed back downstairs. I glanced at my watch. Ick, past 2. It was time to head home.

"Hey, Rose, I think it's time for us to get going." She looked surprised. After a long second, she motioned for me to follow her back into Edward's bottom-floor guest bedroom so that we could talk in private.

"Bella, do you really think it's such a good idea to leave Edward here with Emmett, unprotected?"

"He's hardly unprotected."

"Yes, but he'd be even safer with two FBI agents keeping tabs on him."

"Rosalie, I've got to be in the office at 8:30 sharp tomorrow morning, and, as far as I know, you're still assigned to me. So you'll be dragging your ass out of bed at 6 along with me."

"Even more reason to stay here."

"I don't have any clothes."

"My apartment's not far from here. I'm sure I've got something that you could squeeze into." _Thanks for reminder that my figure isn't as perfect as yours._

"It's out of the question. Besides, even if we wanted to stay, Edward hasn't exactly invited us."

"I can take care of that," she said, swiftly jogging out to the living room.

"Rose, no!" I shouted after her. But it was too late.

"Bella and I think we should stay with you tonight, just to be on the safe side."

"Ros—" she cut me off.

"What do you boys think?"

"Sounds good to me!" Emmett enthused. Edward seemed only marginally less eager than Emmett. _Great._

"Then it's settled. I need to run to my apartment to grab a few things."

"I'll drive you," Emmett volunteered.

"Awesome."

"No." Was I the only voice of reason here? "You two have been drinking."

"Bella, I am more sober than you are," Emmett promised.

"Even if that is true, there's no way I'd let you drive a government vehicle, Emmett, and Rose is definitely _not_ in any condition to drive."

"You can borrow one of my cars," Edward interjected. Now all three of them were ganging up on me. Ugh.

"Fine," I snapped, "but you better get me comfy PJs and something suitable for work tomorrow, Rose."

"I got ya covered, Bells," Rose said, eagerly taking Emmett's arm as they walked out. Edward had given him the key-card to get back inside and his car keys for an Audi something or other.

"Gosh, those two would do _anything_ to be alone," I moaned.

"I'm not complaining," Edward said, cryptically. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Sleep," I only half-joked. The sudden rush of adrenaline and anger earlier had completely drained me.

"That can be arranged, but I doubt you want to curl up in your day clothes. Am I right?" He had me there.

"So, in the meantime…?" he cut off, suggestively it seemed. I wasn't sure if I could handle where this was going.

"In the meantime, I would love to actually _hear_ you play."

I spent the next thirty minutes listening to Edward expertly massage the keys of his piano. He was amazing. It was like his soul caressed the music. I'd never heard such passionate playing before. The songs were either original classical compositions or ones with which I was not familiar.

Rosalie and Emmett rang us when they were outside the door. After verifying that it was indeed the two of them, Edward let them in and we retired for the night. Rose and Emmett shared a room upstairs. I wasn't entirely surprised that they were _already_ intimate, but it did catch me off guard. Edward didn't seem to mind. I took the small guest bedroom downstairs. Thankfully Rose had brought pajamas for me, though I wasn't entirely comfortable wearing a lacy negligee to bed. I dozed off, blissfully aware that I was in Edward's _home_.

---

Somewhere, far away, a sound broke into my dreams. I looked up and saw a bell, tolling, attached to a huge pine tree. It swayed in the breeze. Again, the bell rang. I jumped as it fell off the tree and cracked, still managing to ring for the third time. Finally, I realized I was asleep. One last ring woke up me, banishing the tree and bell.

"Hello?" I drooled into my cell, the source of the mysterious clanging.

"Bells? Did I wake you up?" I glanced at the clock. _8:45am._ Ugh.

"Yeah, but it's okay. I need to get up anyway." I was fully awake now—I usually didn't get calls so early from Charlie.

"I just wanted to call and see what time you were getting in this weekend." Oh crap! _Crap, crap, crap! _ I'd completely forgotten to tell Charlie that I had canceled my flight up to Forks for Thanksgiving. I had a huge paper due the day after break and needed the extra time to study. Between my other classes and my part-time job at the library, I hadn't gotten much accomplished.

"Crap, Dad, I forgot to tell you that I can't come up after all. I've got a huge paper due the Monday after."

"But, Bella, we planned this months ago." His voice simmered with the disappointment I knew he was feeling.

"I know, Dad, and I'm sorry, but if I don't spend time on that paper I might fail the class." And, I wasn't particularly eager to go back to Forks right away. I probably could've finished the paper and still spent Thanksgiving at home, but I didn't feel like being holed up in my room for four days.

"Oh, okay. I understand," he said sadly. "I'll call you on Thanksgiving. Love you, honey." I felt horrible at the disappointment in his voice. But I just wasn't ready to endure four whole days with Charlie.

"Love you too, Dad."

---

I woke with a start. The dream was familiar. I must have dreamt it a dozen times a month but its frequency didn't lessen the pain. The last conversation I'd ever had with my father hadn't ended badly, but I still felt the guilt of not going home. If I had been there maybe he wouldn't have been out in the woods fishing, alone. Maybe he would still be alive.

It wasn't even 5:30am yet, but I wouldn't go back to sleep anytime soon. The dream had bruised my psyche, yet again. I wiped at the tears streaming down my face. In the stillness of early morning I missed Charlie more than at any other time. This was his time of day, whether he spent it fishing or going into the office at the crack of dawn. Charlie was a man of the morning.

I tried to temporarily banish the sadness that had seeped into my soul. I needed to get up and ready for work. It took me a second to realize that something wasn't quite right. The door was in the wrong place and the bed was firmer than usual. _Duh_. I was in Edward's apartment.

I sat up slowly, trying to shake the cobwebs from my fuzzy brain. Three hours of sleep just didn't cut it. I fumbled for the set of clothing Rose had brought, and staggered to the bathroom. After showering and donning the slightly-too-small suit, I went to the kitchen, hoping to find a normal coffee maker so that I could caffeinate myself while waiting for Rose to get up. I really hoped that I wouldn't have to go in and wake her myself.

"Good morning," a velvety voice greeted me as I entered the kitchen. I nearly jumped a foot. I hadn't expected anyone to be up so early, let alone Edward.

"Geez, you scared me!"

"Sorry, I thought you noticed me sitting here. Coffee?" he asked, gesturing to the freshly-brewed pot.

I nodded, eternally grateful. Edward made a damn fine cup of joe. "Thank you, this is really good," I said after a few sips. The caffeine needed a chance to jump-start my brain.

"It's my pleasure. I have it imported from Indonesia." Of course he did. Was there anything Edward Cullen did half-heartedly?

"Did you sleep well?" he continued, unaware of my mental perusal of him. "I thought you wouldn't get up for at least another hour or so."

"I usually get up about this time." I wanted to avoid having a discussion about my sleeping habits with Edward. He didn't need to know that nightmares nearly paralyzed me every night. It wasn't a lie; I usually woke up before 6, unless medicated or drunk.

"Me too," he said, again looking at me like we were in on the same secret. "So, what is on your agenda for today?"

"Well, I need to check in on some of the leads I uncovered last week. Are you planning to go into the office today?" I asked.

"Yes, I have to tie up a few loose ends."

"In that case, I'd like to escort you there personally."

"That really won't be necessary."

"I insist. Rosalie and I will get your vehicle from wherever you parked it last night and drop it off by your office later today." He winced a little when I said those words. Judging by the millions of dollars in machinery he had in his garage, I imagined he wasn't accustomed to letting someone else drive his cars.

"I assure you that I have a spotless driving record." He didn't seem appeased, but it wasn't safe for him to be out and about. "If you would prefer, I can take Emmett instead."

"No, it's alright. I trust you," he said after a long pause.

"Then it's settled." He described where he parked and handed me the keys. I raised an eyebrow when he told me the car he had driven.

"Are you serious? You have all those luxury sports cars out there and you drove a silver Volvo?"

He shrugged. "It's less conspicuous. I thought the FBI agent in you would be pleased."

"Well, is it bulletproof?"

"Actually, yes."

"Ugh," I groaned playfully. He gave me a crooked smile.

We continued our banter until a very tired-looking couple stumbled into the kitchen. Wordlessly, Edward poured them both a cup of coffee, which they drank eagerly. I doubted either of them got any sleep. At least I didn't hear anything suggestive last night while I was trying to sleep. Perhaps his whole apartment was soundproof like the piano room.

Finally we all headed out, piling into the dark SUV once more.

---

The day passed just like any other. The biggest lead I had at this point were the few drops of blood from the perp I'd shot. Nothing conclusive had surfaced on that front, though I was still awaiting the official lab report.

I spent most of my time filling out paperwork from last night's incident. Paperwork was definitely my least favorite aspect of this job, aside from death threats.

Around lunchtime, Rose came to my office and we went to retrieve Edward's Volvo. He and Emmett were in meetings all day so I left the keys with Nancy, telling her not to bother him.

Rose tagged along the entire day and I was grateful for the company. That changed when it was time to go home.

"Let's go back to Edward's place," she encouraged, though it sounded more like a command.

I shook my head. "No way, I want to sleep in my own bed tonight, and I'd really like to wear my own clothes to work tomorrow." Rosalie's suit was stylish and attractive, but too long in the legs and too tight in the waist. My modest bosom didn't fill out her blouse very well either.

"Bella, we should check in on him," she pressed, clearly irritated that I didn't want to go back over there tonight.

"Try calling," I suggested. She didn't appreciate my sarcasm.

"Don't be ridiculous, Bella. Edward was nearly killed last night. I think we should stay with them as much as possible." That was it, I was sick of people telling me to stop being ridiculous.

"What the hell, Rose. _I'm_ in charge here. We're _not_ going over the Edward's place tonight. Case closed!"

If she was angry before, she was pissed now. "You're not thinking clearly. Are you sure you didn't get hit in the head last night?"

"It's not my head you should be worried about right now, _Agent Hale._"

"Ooh, tough girl, huh?"

"I was referring more to insubordination. Do you really want to get fired for this?"

"You wouldn't…" She looked at me, challenge in her eyes.

"Try me."

"Whatever," she brushed me off. "I'm going to request a change of assignment. I think it's better if Emmett has backup where Edward Cullen is concerned."

"Fine, Rose. I'll get Mike to stay with me tonight since you're obviously not up to the task." I didn't even consider whether Mike would be willing to stay with me—I knew he'd be thrilled. I wasn't terribly happy with the idea of him spending the night, but he certainly beat Rose at this point.

She stomped away, not bothering to respond or glance back at me. I briefly reconsidered asking Mike. I could just go home by myself or maybe I could ask Jake. I quickly dismissed both options. If I didn't get someone else to replace Rose, she might get fired. And, even though I was upset with her, I didn't want that to happen. I also didn't want Jake in on any of what had happened to me recently. He would never leave my side. So, Mike it was.

I went to his office, against my will, and knocked on the door. Thankfully, he was still there. I hadn't considered what I would do if he'd left already. "Hey, Mike. Rose bailed on me. Is there any way you could spend the night?" I hated the way those words sounded…like a proposition. I was _definitely_ not into Mike in any way, shape, or form.

"I'd love to help out, Bella!" He was far too eager to "help out." Maybe this was a mistake after all. "Can we swing by my apartment first so I can grab a few things?"

"Sure." I hoped I wouldn't regret this. He was far too cheerful at the prospect of coming over.

Mike's apartment was small and messy. Empty pizza boxes and cans of beer littered the floor and makeshift coffee tables. Clearly he never cooked, or cleaned. He had a huge flat-screen television in his living room, but little else by way of furniture. He seemed to have sacrificed furniture on the altar of entertainment.

"Sorry for the mess. I'll just be a minute."

He finished up and we finally made it back to my apartment.

It was less awkward having Mike stay with me a night than I originally thought it would be—that is, until he had one too many beers and started calling me beautiful. He had asked me out a lot when he first came to DC, but eventually stopped when I didn't budge an inch. He asked again, and again, until finally I made him go to bed. Embarrassing didn't come close to describing it.

---

I rode with Mike in his car to the office, skipping the metro. I wanted to avoid the conversation that I knew was coming. Mitch would be more than upset at Rose if I didn't carefully explain the situation to him. Though she wasn't my favorite person at the moment, she was still a friend.

After getting through security and situating myself for the day, I went to Mitch's office.

"Come in," he said from inside at the sound of my knock.

"Hi, Bella, what's up?"

"Well," I began cautiously, "I would like to request that Rosalie be transferred to Edward Cullen full-time."

"Bella, we've been through this before. I'm not canceling your protection order."

"No, no…that's not what I'm asking. I'd like a different agent." Mitch didn't look too happy. Clearly he thought that I was asking because we'd had some sort of personal problem getting along. That was part of it, but I did agree with Rose that Edward needed more protection.

"I think Rose should be assigned to watch Edward Cullen," I added hastily. "If Sunday night's events are any indication, he needs more guarding than he's getting. She already knows the case and has coordinated with his bodyguard."

"He has already refused our services," Mitch reminded.

"I think he'll be more amenable this time around." He paused and considered my request for a few moments.

"Well, alright, I'll call and see. In the meantime you'll need someone else to accompany you."

"For obvious reasons, I'd prefer a female agent." He agreed. I thanked him and went back to work.

By the end of the day I'd almost forgotten about the tiff Rose and I had, until Mitch knocked on my door.

"Bella, this is Agent James." I looked up quickly at the sound of a familiar, hated name, trying not to panic. My heart had already gone into overdrive and my palms were sweating. I forced my breaths to come in an even succession, waiting to look up into the blue eyes that had mocked me every night for years.

Instead of the man I had been expecting, a woman with fiery red hair smiled at me tentatively. She had fair skin and beautiful light blue eyes nowhere near the shade of _his_ eyes.

"Victoria, this is Agent Bella Swan."

"Pleased to meet you," her bell-like voice tinkled. Though she was still smiling, and hadn't given me any indication that she was less-than-trustworthy, my intuition flared. Agent Victoria James worried me.


	7. Developments

a/n: Hi All! No, this is not a mirage -- this is actually an update! Thanks to my betas for getting this chapter back to me lickety split!!! :)

Thanks to tigercrazyjen, my sis, for her encouragement in this little endeavor!  Another thanks to my "real life" friend, beckalippy, for plowing through my chapters faster than I could pump them out (and for keeping me writing).

A special thanks to patsyrobinson, not only for her super-beta prowess in general, but for making me another banner!! :) It's beautiful and her pic skills put me to shame. She definitely rocks (who else would put this story before a final exam??). She is the sha to my lom, the ed to my ward! :) Check out her story A Long Time Coming (I heard rumors of an impending update for her awesome fic!!). :)

Another thank-you to Project Team Beta for all that you do, especially hooking me up with Kristi28 and JenJadeEyes. Kristi is the queen of commas and I think Jen may have been a spy in a former life. Seriously ladies, you guys are the worms in my applebutt! :o)

To vjgm goes much love as well for her super, super-fast validating!! :) :)

Finally, as usual, Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight.

---

_Edward_

I was getting antsy. It had been over 24 hours since I'd seen Bella last, walking from my office after seeing me safely inside. I was upset that she hadn't interrupted my meeting when she returned my car yesterday. Seriously, did she think that I'd mind? Nancy should've known better and detained her, by force if necessary.

I was surprised when Rosalie had called around seven last night to inform us that she was on her way over. Emmett had escorted me back home, as usual. Nothing had happened.

I expected Bella would be with her and had to suppress a wave of disappointment when she didn't show up. Rosalie hadn't offered an explanation; I was at a complete loss as to her absence, but decided not to ask. The last thing I needed was to seem like some teenaged boy dominated by raging hormones. Maybe it was just my imagination that had interpreted Bella's actions as attraction for me. I thought that I had at least read interest on her part.

Emmett and Rosalie had spent the night together again, to my annoyance. Even though she was a friend of Bella's, she was a little too rough around the edges for my tastes. I knew that Rose justified her intrusion into my life as protection of me. But I wasn't fooled—she was here for Emmett.

When I got to the office I was in a foul mood. Everyone sensed it and gave me a wide berth. My spirits weren't lifted in the least when Mitchell Scott called me again, asking if I would keep Rosalie with me at all times in light of recent events. I agreed, though only for Emmett's sake. I guess if Rosalie was with me 24/7 then Bella might come around more often. Still, I found Rosalie's presence more annoying than useful.

I nearly made a detour to her office on my way home for the evening, but thought better of it. As much as I craved her presence, I didn't want to stifle her.

---

_Bella_

I heard a grisly crunching sound and realized someone was screaming, and loudly. Looking at my leg, where a sickly warm sensation was creeping upward, I saw James move his foot away from me. _He had broken my leg!_ I didn't have time for another coherent thought before he struck again.

Rough hands rattled me as I continued to scream. Finally, I heard a voice. It wasn't the male voice that had stalked me in my nightmares; it was a soft, bell-like female voice.

"Agent Swan! Wake up!" The shaking got more violent. "Agent Swan!"

Finally, I opened my eyes, realizing that I had been in the throes of a particularly violent dream. Victoria was kneeling on my bed, shaking me awake. I must have really been screaming. I barely registered the look in her eyes before she herself realized that she was glaring at me. Immediately a calm mask fell over her face.

"Agent…uh…Jah…James. Sorry…" I managed to get out before my brain fully awakened.

"It's okay."

I sat up groggily and wiped my eyes clean of the sleep that had accumulated there during the night.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly 6," she replied. "What were you dreaming about?"

"I don't know," I lied. I didn't want her to learn anything about me, especially not my past. This woman made me uncomfortable.

"I thought you were dreaming about me. You yelled 'James' more than once," she pressed further.

"Oh. I might have been. I really don't remember." What a coincidence that she shared the name of the person who had caused me so much grief.

She didn't seem satisfied with my answer, but let it drop for the time being and left the room. I noticed as she walked out that she was already fully dressed. I reached down to my leg, caressing it gently in the very place it had been broken. The nightmare hadn't been just a dream—it was a memory. Having her here, with the same name, had prompted a nearly perfect rendition of the most physically painful day in my entire life. I fell back on my pillow, trying desperately to shake his face from my mind. After a few minutes, I had assuaged my fears enough to get out of bed.

I stumbled to the shower and quickly got ready for my day. By the time I reached the kitchen, Victoria James was nothing but sweet…and composed.

---

I could tell something was wrong when a very glum-looking Mike greeted me outside my office door.

"Bella, there's a problem."

Crippling fear bubbled up within me and I couldn't stop the words that poured out. "What? Is Edward all right?"

A confused look passed over Mike's features. "Edward? Cullen?"

"YES! EDWARD CULLEN!" I nearly screamed. My normal, professional demeanor was demolished at the thought of any harm coming to Edward.

"Whoa, calm down, Bella. He's fine." Mike eyed me with a strange expression. I couldn't interpret it, but didn't care at that moment.

Relief quickly edged out fear as I sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Edward was fine. "What's the problem then?"

"The two men you captured have escaped." _What? Impossible_. How could they escape from FBI custody? There's no way.

"What? I don't understand."

"The van transporting the prisoners to Quantico was diverted. They never made it. The weird thing is that only the transferring agent and the receiving agent knew where they'd be headed."

Wow, it had to be an inside job. My mind raced to cover all the implications this new development held. "How did they fool the GPS and satellites monitoring the van?"

"They disabled the GPS while en route and pulled into a parking garage. Satellites picked up several vans with no plates leaving the same garage. It was impossible to tell which one was our van."

I thought back to the interrogation of these two men. They hadn't said a word, not a bloody word. Neither of them had even blinked when I entered the room. I had never been so tempted to go outside the bounds of legal interrogation methods in my entire career. Even though they had assaulted me and were working for the very people who wanted Edward dead, I couldn't risk my job by roughing them up. Now they were gone?

I knew at that point what had to be done, but I didn't want to clue Mitch in on my idea. He'd likely be upset. It was time to take this investigation abroad. My contact in Rome would be more than happy to help out.

"It gets worse," Mike said, breaking through my thoughts.

"Worse?"

"Yes, the bodies of the two agents transporting the men were found about an hour ago."

My mind slowed down as I took in the new bit of information. _Two agents were dead _The case had just gotten deadlier, and far more serious. I silently grieved for the agents who had given their lives in the line of duty.

"Who were they?"

"Harold Dickson and Marge Hutchinson."

A single tear slid silently down my cheek. Harold had been one of my first friends when I came to DC. He was a sweet man who had taken me under his wing. His wife and two children would miss him. I didn't know the other agent, but that didn't stop me from grieving for her as well.

"There will be a service the day after tomorrow."

I nodded, shoving down the feelings of sadness. The deaths of these two agents added more fodder to my burning desire to see this case solved, _now._

"Where are the sending and receiving agents?"

"They're both in custody," Mike said. "There is no evidence of wrongdoing from either of them though."

I spent the rest of my time reviewing the backgrounds of all the agents involved in the unfolding events. The dead agents were clean so far and seemed to be innocent victims of a heinous plot. The two agents who were responsible for sending and receiving the criminals in custody checked out as well, just as Mike had noted. I had only had time for a cursory glance at their records, but every agent involved in the transportation of these criminals was spotless.

The gloom of the day's events was weighing heavily on me by the time I was ready to leave. Victoria met me at the office. Since Mike was around to escort me wherever I needed to go during the day, Victoria had been off duty.

We walked to the metro together and rode home. I asked if she had heard the news and knew the two agents. She didn't know who they were, though she had gotten the agency memo describing the incident. She wasn't exactly talkative, but at least I wasn't getting any more strange vibes.

Finally, when we made it to my home, I attempted to bring her out of her shell a little more. I needed something, _anything_, to distract me from the turn of events this case had taken, even if it meant talking to Victoria.

"Would you care for anything to drink?" She looked at me, surprised. Maybe she hadn't anticipated any level of hospitality from me.

"Yeah, that'd be great. Do you have any wine?"

"I do. Is red okay?" She nodded. I pulled out two glasses, filling each with a generous pour. I sat down opposite her and we chatted a bit.

"Where are you from?" I began, hoping to ease her into a friendly conversation.

"Portland, Oregon," she answered easily.

"Oh, wow. I lived in Washington for several years!" I proclaimed. I always got a little too happy when I found others I could commiserate with over the rainy weather in the Northeastern United States.

"Get out," she said, loosening up with each sip of wine.

"Seriously. What is Portland's annual rainfall?"

"You know, it's actually not that high. Only about 40 inches a year."

"Wow, must be paradise."

"Well, it's overcast most days."

"I hear you. I think I saw less than a dozen days of sunshine over the course of two years in Forks. It's insanity," I laughed, enjoying our connection.

We conversed amiably for a long time, easily polishing off the bottle of wine. I found Victoria to be friendly and smart. It was great to have a distraction from the weighty gloom of the day.

"So, Victoria, why did you enter the FBI?"

She paused as a look of pain washed across her face. "Well, it's hard for me to talk about."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I completely understand. Forget I even asked."

"No, no. It's okay. I think it helps to talk about it." I nodded, wanting to be sensitive to something that was obviously deeply personal, and very painful.

"When I was 13, my mother and younger sister were the victims of a double homicide." She stopped again, drawing a shaky breath before continuing. "Their case was never solved." She looked down at her hands, tears falling into her lap.

"Wow, I am so sorry," I offered, finally. I knew that there was nothing I could say that would come remotely close to offering any sort of comfort. A few more errant tears slid down her cheeks and I couldn't stop my own. Her pain was so close to mine. After a few long moments, she looked up at me again.

"What's your story?" she asked. She looked so vulnerable and had been so honest with me that I couldn't help but share some details from my own past.

"My father was murdered as well, but they found the man who did it." I actually _did_ feel better talking about this with someone who had an inkling of what it was like to lose a loved one in such a horrible way.

"James?" she guessed.

"How'd you know?" I was a little stunned. She looked at me quickly, an unreadable emotion clouding her face. She answered, a little too swiftly.

"Your dream." It made sense, but again an uneasy feeling niggled in the back of my mind.

"Ah, yes. I can't shake them."

"Me either, though I usually don't scream. Yours must be particularly graphic."

"Well, they're more like memories," I confessed. My emotions just didn't make sense. I felt such relief discussing this with someone else who had been through a similar experience that my answers nearly escaped automatically. Yet, my previous unease around Victoria flared again. Something was not right. Or, maybe it was just my imagination; I _was_ sort of fried at the moment…and drinking.

"Why don't we do something fun to take our minds off of the past…and the present?" she suggested.

"Sounds like a great idea to me! What'd you have in mind?" Perhaps my unease would dissipate if I got to know Victoria better.

"I saw a dive bar a few blocks away. I'm game if you are, Swan," she winked, obviously trying to repress her own demons.

"Deal!" I could use some time away from my cramped apartment and the memories. A little more alcohol might help me cope with the fresh wave of sadness that had hit me while talking to Victoria. I'm sure she felt similarly. It was tough to lose comrades, and their deaths brought more unbidden memories to the surface.

We walked out into the night. I was fairly confident that it would be safe for me to go out with Victoria. It was Edward who had to be careful. I wondered what he was doing. I hadn't seen him in nearly two days. Rosalie was definitely holding a grudge over our little spat but I wasn't about to apologize first. She hadn't called, or texted, or emailed to let me know Edward's status. Obviously, she would inform me if something happened, but it would be nice to get an update once in awhile. I could always order her…but I honestly didn't want to talk to her until she chose to be more reasonable.

The Shady Lady was a less-than-reputable establishment that inhabited the shell of an old stone church. I'd passed it countless times on my way home from work each evening, but never gave it a second thought. It seemed to be a perfect match for our respective moods tonight, so I was fine with giving it a go.

We entered the dark bar, smoke clouding our vision. The entire establishment took up one floor, with a sizable bar to the left, a dance floor behind it, and pool tables to the right. It was mostly packed with older men who sat at the bar nursing big mugs or stood in small groups guffawing. A few younger-looking folks were dancing together behind them, but they were clearly the riff-raff of the neighborhood. Oddly, I was probably safer here than in my own apartment, assuming no assassins were at the bar tonight.

We each ordered a beer and sat at the bar, ignoring the curious, and even downright sexual, stares that were shot our way.

"Do you play pool?"

"I do," I replied.

"Great, care for a small wager?" she asked, her lips curved upward in a small grin.

"You're on!"

"Loser buys the next round."

"Deal!" We smiled companionably at each other and began our round. She beat me, far too easily for my liking. I honored our bet and bought another round.

We played for a few hours, then stumbled our way back to my apartment. It was nice to just hang out with another person and commiserate about life and work. I hadn't felt this understood in years.

However, that night not even alcohol could protect me from another powerful slew of dreams. This time, Victoria joined James in his pursuit and torture of me. Somehow, the images didn't seem wrong.

---

a/n: I hope this chapter was entertaining -- it was a bit of a transition and gave me some trouble! Grr!

Chapter 8 will probably be awhile.. ;o( (unless my muse chooses to inspire sooner rather than later).

Also, I have put up another story overt at Twilighted called Broken Dawn that chronicles a different ending to Eclispe and the rest of the series. If you like canon-fiction (and weren't too terribly fond of Breaking Dawn), I would implore you to check it out! Warning, it's only one chapter in (though I have plans to remedy that soon!).

And, if you would care to grace me with a comment or critique, I would LOVE it! :o)


	8. Chapter 8 Reunion

It was finally Saturday. Blessedly, I hadn't woken up because of my usual bout of dreams. My brain was fuzz-free and I was ready to go over the details of the case afresh.

I hadn't seen Edward in several days, nor had Rosalie called. I was on the verge of calling her when my phone buzzed.

"Agent Swan."

"Uh, hi, Bella. It's Rose." She sounded tentative, like her phone might implode by talking to me.

I paused for a second, trying to figure out what one says in such an awkward situation. I didn't feel that I had been wrong, but I also didn't want to burn any more bridges with my friend. Before I could decide what to say, she spoke again.

"Listen, I've been doing a lot of thinking about what happened. I'm, uh, s-sor-rry." The last word tumbled from her lips like she had forcefully expelled it. Apparently Rose wasn't all that used to apologizing.

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"So…whatcha doing today?" she asked, as if nothing had ever been wrong to begin with.

"I'm at the office with Victoria, going over some files."

"Victoria?"

"Oh, yeah, she's the, uh, new agent assigned to protect me." I imagined Rose's flinch as I tried to answer her questions diplomatically.

"Oh." Another awkward pause. "Well, if you've got some time this weekend, would you like to grab coffee or hit the gym?"

"Sure. Tomorrow morning?"

"Sounds great," she said before clicking our conversation to a close.

Her phone call made me chafe a little more, if possible, for Edward. I missed him. Even though I had only known him for a handful of days, he had definitely made an impression. I wanted to get to know him better, to see more of the _real_ Edward Cullen, the man who was kind and fun. His asshole-ish tendencies felt like a distant memory to me now.

Victoria and I had bonded during our time together. She was a laid-back, all around cool chick. We had played pool a few more times and gone to the range and the gym. She was an excellent sparring partner and a healthy change of pace from Rose—I needed to practice with someone whose moves I couldn't readily predict.

"It just doesn't make sense," she said as she peered at the stack of documents piled upon my desk. "How could the prisoners have escaped if only two people knew where they were going?"

"I'm not sure. This is a horrible thing to think, but, I was really hoping one of them would turn out to be dirty."

"That is horrible," she grinned, "but understandable."

I had been wrestling with a decision for several days and finally decided to just lay it out for her.

"Vick, I think I know how we could get some better leads for this case—but, it's not exactly by the book."

At my last few words, her eyes lit up, like breaking protocol was her favorite pastime.

"Let's hear it," she said eagerly.

"Well, when I first started investigating this case, Mitch and I suspected the Italians were involved. I've got a few contacts in Rome who might know more, but a phone call is too risky. And, because of the infiltration of this office, I can't tell Mitch or anyone else about an international trip."

I didn't honestly suspect Mitch, but he was bound by certain requirements that would seriously hamper any international progress I could make…like having to report all of my meetings and actions to his higher-ups. I needed to keep this as quiet as possible.

"When do we leave?"

Her readiness to put her career in peril warmed my heart. Even so, I had to make sure she understood the consequences if Mitch found out we went abroad without authorization.

"This could cost us both our jobs…or worse."

She nodded as I spoke, breaking in, "Bella, if this will propel the case even one iota forward, I'm game if you are."

"I think I love you," I teased. She winked seductively at me and laughed, her icy eyes sparkling with mirth. I marveled at how quickly we'd become so close—I hadn't clicked this well with anyone in a long time…except, perhaps, Ed—

"When are we leaving?" she wondered, breaking into my millionth Edward thought of the day. It was a good question. I'd likely need at least two or three days to get things set up.

"Probably Tuesday, assuming all goes smoothly and I can get in touch with my contacts."

"Sweet, this will be fun!"

The way she had worded her last phrase made me think of Jake and I decided it was time to pay him a much-overdue visit.

"Do you mind if we call it a day? I'm not making any progress and I need to see a friend before we leave the country."

"Sure thing."

I dialed his number as Victoria began to pack up and re-file all the manila folders we'd pulled out.

"Bella!" his voice rang through the receiver. I took it as a good omen that he was off-duty today, evident by the fact that he had answered his personal cell phone.

"Hi, Jake. Hey, wanna grab a bite?" One of the things I loved about Jake was that I didn't need to pull any punches—I could get straight to the point.

"When, now?" the words rushed out.

"Yeah, if you're free, that is."

"SURE!" he all but roared through the phone.

"Any place in mind?" I asked.

"I have a hankerin' for pancakes."

"Sounds good."

---

"Jake! I'm so glad to see you!" It wasn't a lie, I hadn't seen Jacob in nearly two months. I honestly missed him. Even though I knew things would likely take an awkward turn or two when we were together, I needed to see him.

"I've missed you too, Bells." He grinned at me. I remembered what it was like when were together. He was always so sweet, so in tune with what I needed. That hadn't changed.

His tone changed and Officer Black suddenly appeared.

"What's with the redhead watching us?" he wondered, motioning at the table where Victoria sat, obviously keeping a less-than-covert eye on me. _Damn_. It's not like I thought he wouldn't notice her, I just sorta hoped…

"Her name is Victoria, she's assigned to me."

"Assigned to you? What? Why? When? Spill it, _now_, Bella," he ordered in his best and most intimidating police voice. I was sure that a fair share of criminals had cowered at his wrathful tone. The look in his eyes wasn't exactly heart-warming either. I knew him, though, and wasn't afraid. But _ugh_, I thought Jacob would overreact when he found out what had happened. I couldn't rightly leave Victoria at home, though.

"It's a long story," I hedged. He shook his head, not buying what I was selling.

"Bullshit. I've got plenty of time."

"Alright, well, remember I asked you to check into that black Mercedes?" He nodded as I continued, "It's all part of my newest case. I'm running point on it." He grinned, pleased at my accomplishment.

"Anyway, I can't go into a lot of detail, but the life of one of DC's hotshots was recently threatened. Whoever is responsible for trying to take him out had two goons attack me in a parking lot."

He reacted like I knew he would. First, his eyes bulged so severely that I really thought they might pop right out of their sockets. Then, a look of base anger so grotesquely contorted his face that he looked like a different person. I took a nervous sip of freshly-delivered coffee as I waited for Mt. Black to erupt.

"Bella, are you alright?" I could tell he was pulling double-duty to keep his voice so tightly controlled. I appreciated the effort.

"Yes, Jake. I'm fine." He looked me up and down, evaluating whether my words comported with reality.

"What happened." It wasn't a question so much as a command.

"They caught me off guard, but I managed to ass-whip them both." He looked impressed but not surprised. Jake had been my sparring partner for many years; he knew the punches I packed.

"Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"Honestly, I didn't want you to freak out."

"Double bullshit. I can't believe you didn't call me! What the FUCK!" He had lost control. Patrons glanced nervously at us as Jacob continued his tirade. Victoria had come to stand silently nearby in case he turned violent. I knew Jacob would _never_ hurt me, but Victoria didn't.

"Is there a problem here?" she interceded, looking sharply at Jacob and pointedly fingering the gun tucked inside her suit.

"Who the hell are you?" Jacob spat at her.

"Agent Victoria James. Who the _hell_ are you?"

"Officer Black."

"Well, _officer_, I think you need to tone it down. Don't you?" she said, motioning at the now-silent establishment. People quickly turned away as Jacob finally came back down and noticed that everyone was avoiding eye contact with him.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Bella. I shouldn't have overreacted. I just hate the men who did that to you!"

"It's okay, Jake."

"I want you off the case, now!" He had calmed down, but was still simmering beneath the surface.

"No." I didn't need to yell to get my point across. He got it—I wasn't about to back down from my hottest case to date. Or my hottest client.

"Bella…"

"Don't start with me, Jake. This type of case is precisely why I joined the FBI in the first place. Charlie would want me to do some good—stopping the terrorists who are trying to sabotage a company vital to America's defense is definitely what I'd consider _good._"

Jake sighed and looked at me. I'd pulled the Charlie card before he could get his hands on it.

"But, Charlie would want…"

"…me to be safe? Well, with these terrorists on the loose, I'm not exactly living a carefree life. When I catch them I can go back to having a normal, _safe_ life."

He acquiesced a little easier than I thought he would, but I had to promise I'd contact him every day.

"So, who is this big-shot, anyway?"

"You know I can't divulge that information."

"Wait, black Mercedes, parking-lot attacks, vital American company…you're on the Edward Cullen case, aren't you?"

"Wow, they don't call you officer for nothing." I had to admit, I was impressed.

"Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out a puzzle when he's given all the pieces."

"True, still, good sleuthing skills."

"Listen, I know what you're going to say, but I think I should stay with you for awhile. At least until this blows over."

"No."

"Bells, come on, I want you to be safe."

"I can take care of myself, Jake."

"I know but I'd feel better—"

"I've got protection. Victoria's the best."

"But, Bella—"

"NO."

"Ugh, you are so stubborn. Just like your father."

"And you're annoying—just like yours."

He glared at me and I glared right back. Then it started; a small giggle escaped from his lips. Then a larger laugh. The giggles and laughs kept bubbling up, louder and larger than previously until he was crying from laughter. I joined in, desperately needing a release from the tense situation. We cracked up for awhile, Victoria joining in too. Finally, we stopped.

"Jake," I choked out, "I've missed you."

He nodded and finished eating his pancakes. All was well between us.


End file.
